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Original Front Cover.

Original Title Page.

Castes and Tribes of Southern India

Castes and Tribes of Southern India

Castes and Tribes
of
Southern India
Volume III—K
Government Press, Madras
1909.

Castes and Tribes of Southern India.

Volume III.

Fleuron.

K

Kabbēra.—The Kabbēras are a caste of Canarese fishermen and cultivators. “They are,” Mr. W. Francis writes,1 “grouped into two divisions, the Gaurimakkalu or sons of Gauri (Parvati) and the Gangimakkalu or sons of Ganga, the goddess of water, and they do not intermarry, but will dine together. Each has its bedagus (exogamous septs), and these seem to be different in the two sub-divisions. The Gaurimakkalu are scarce in Bellary, and belong chiefly to Mysore. They seem to be higher in the social scale (as such things are measured among Hindus) than the Gangimakkalu, as they employ Brāhmans as priests instead of men of their own caste, burn their dead instead of burying them, hold annual ceremonies in memory of them, and prohibit the remarriage of widows. The Gangimakkalu were apparently engaged originally in all the pursuits connected with water, such as propelling boats, catching fish, and so forth, and they are especially numerous in villages along the banks of the Tungabhadra.” Coracles are still used on various South Indian rivers, e.g., the Cauvery, Bhavāni, and Tungabhadra. Tavernier, on [2]his way to Golgonda, wrote that “the boats employed in crossing the river are like large baskets, covered outside with ox-hides, at the bottom of which some faggots are placed, upon which carpets are spread to put the baggage and goods upon, for fear they should get wet.” Bishop Whitehead has recently2 placed on record his experiences of coracles as a means of conveyance. “We embarked,” he writes, “in a boat (at Hampi on the Tungabhadra) which exactly corresponds to my idea of the coracle of the ancient Britons. It consists of a very large, round wicker basket, about eight or nine feet in diameter, covered over with leather, and propelled by paddles. As a rule, it spins round and round, but the boatmen can keep it fairly straight, when exhorted to do so, as they were on this occasion. Some straw had been placed in the bottom of the coracle, and we were also allowed the luxury of chairs to sit upon, but it is safer to sit on the straw, as a chair in a coracle is generally in a state of unstable equilibrium. I remember once crossing a river in the Trichinopoly district in a coracle, to take a confirmation at a village on the other side. It was thought more suitable to the dignity of the occasion that I should sit upon a chair in the middle of the coracle, and I weakly consented to do so. All the villagers were assembled to meet us on the opposite bank; four policemen were drawn up as a guard of honour, and a brass band, brought from Tanjore, stood ready in the background. As we came to the shore, the villagers salaamed, the guard of honour saluted, the band struck up a tune faintly resembling ‘See the conquering hero comes,’ the coracle bumped heavily against the shelving bank, my chair tipped up, [3]and I was deposited, heels up, on my back in the straw!... We were rowed for about two miles down the stream. The current was very swift, and there were rapids at frequent intervals. Darkness overtook us, and it was not altogether a pleasant sensation being whirled swiftly over the rapids in our frail-looking boat, with ugly rocks jutting out of the stream on either side. But the boatmen seemed to know the river perfectly, and were extraordinarily expert in steering the coracle with their paddles.” The arrival in 1847 of the American Missionary, John Eddy Chandler at Madura, when the Vaigai river was in flood, has been described as follows.3 “Coolies swimming the river brought bread and notes from the brethren and sisters in the city. At last, after three days of waiting, the new Missionaries safely reached the mission premises in Madura. Messrs. Rendall and Cherry managed to cross to them, and they all recrossed into the city by a large basket boat, eight or ten feet in diameter, with a bamboo pole tied across the top for them to hold on to. The outside was covered with leather. Ropes attached to all sides were held by a dozen coolies as they dragged it across, walking and swimming.” In recent years, a coracle has been kept at the traveller’s bungalow at Paikāra on the Nīlgiris for the use of anglers in the Paikāra river.

Kabbēra.—The Kabbēras are a caste of Canarese fishermen and farmers. “They are,” Mr. W. Francis writes, 1 “divided into two groups, the Gaurimakkalu or sons of Gauri (Parvati) and the Gangimakkalu or sons of Ganga, the goddess of water, and they don’t intermarry, but they will eat together. Each group has its bedagus (exogamous septs), which seem to be different in the two sub-groups. The Gaurimakkalu are rare in Bellary and primarily come from Mysore. They appear to be considered higher on the social scale (as such things are measured among Hindus) than the Gangimakkalu, as they hire Brāhmans as priests instead of members of their own caste, burn their dead rather than bury them, hold annual ceremonies in their memory, and discourage the remarriage of widows. The Gangimakkalu seem to have originally been involved in all activities related to water, such as paddling boats, catching fish, and so on, and they are especially numerous in villages along the banks of the Tungabhadra.” Coracles are still used on various South Indian rivers, e.g., the Cauvery, Bhavāni, and Tungabhadra. Tavernier, on [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]his way to Golgonda, wrote that “the boats used to cross the river are like large baskets, covered outside with ox hides, with some faggots placed at the bottom, on which carpets are spread to protect the baggage and goods from getting wet.” Bishop Whitehead recently 2 recorded his experiences using coracles for transport. “We got into,” he writes, “a boat (at Hampi on the Tungabhadra) that perfectly matches my idea of the coracle of the ancient Britons. It consists of a very large, round wicker basket, about eight or nine feet in diameter, covered with leather, and driven by paddles. Generally, it spins around, but the boatmen can keep it fairly straight if they are encouraged to do so, as they were in this case. Some straw was placed in the bottom of the coracle, and we were also offered the luxury of chairs to sit on, but it's safer to sit on the straw since a chair in a coracle is usually unstable. I remember once crossing a river in the Trichinopoly district in a coracle to attend a confirmation at a village on the other side. It was deemed more fitting for the occasion that I sit on a chair in the middle of the coracle, and I weakly agreed to do so. All the villagers had gathered to meet us on the other bank; four policemen were lined up as an honor guard, and a brass band from Tanjore was ready to play in the background. As we reached the shore, the villagers bowed, the honor guard saluted, the band struck up a tune faintly resembling ‘See the conquering hero comes,’ the coracle bumped heavily against the sloping bank, my chair tipped up, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]and I found myself on my back in the straw with my feet up!... We were rowed for about two miles down the river. The current was quite strong, and there were rapids at frequent intervals. Darkness caught up with us, and it wasn't particularly pleasant being swept rapidly over the rapids in our seemingly fragile boat, with sharp rocks sticking out of the stream on either side. But the boatmen appeared to know the river very well and were incredibly skilled at steering the coracle with their paddles.” The arrival in 1847 of American Missionary John Eddy Chandler in Madura, when the Vaigai river was flooded, has been described as follows.3 “Coolies swimming across the river brought bread and notes from the brothers and sisters in the city. Finally, after three days of waiting, the new Missionaries successfully arrived at the mission premises in Madura. Messrs. Rendall and Cherry managed to cross to them, and they all crossed back into the city in a large basket boat, eight or ten feet in diameter, with a bamboo pole tied across the top for them to hold onto. The outside was covered with leather. Ropes attached to all sides were held by about a dozen coolies as they dragged it across, both walking and swimming.” In recent years, a coracle has been kept at the traveler’s bungalow in Paikāra on the Nīlgiris for use by anglers in the Paikāra river.

“The Kabbēras,” Mr. Francis continues, “are at present engaged in a number of callings, and, perhaps in consequence, several occupational sub-divisions have arisen, the members of which are more often known by their occupational title than as either Gangimakkalu or Kabbēras. The Bārikes, for example, are a class of village servants who keep the village chāvadi (caste [4]meeting house) clean, look after the wants of officials halting in the village, and do other similar duties. The Jalakaras are washers of gold-dust; the Madderu are dyers, who use the root of the maddi (Morinda citrifolia) tree; and apparently (the point is one which I have not had time to clear up) the Besthas, who have often been treated as a separate caste, are really a sub-division of the Gangimakkalu, who were originally palanquin-bearers, but, now that these vehicles have gone out of fashion, are employed in divers other ways. The betrothal is formally evidenced by the partaking of betel-leaf in the girl’s house, in the manner followed by the Kurubas. As among the Mādigas, the marriage is not consummated for three months after its celebration. The caste follow the Kuruba ceremony of calling back the dead.” Consummation is, as among the Kurubas and Mādigas, postponed for three months, as it is considered unlucky to have three heads of a family in a household during the first year of marriage. By the delay, the birth of a child should take place only in the second year, so that, during the first year, there will be only two heads, husband and wife. In the ceremony of calling back the dead, referred to by Mr. Francis, a pot of water is worshipped in the house on the eleventh day after a funeral, and taken next morning to some lonely place, where it is emptied.

“The Kabbēras,” Mr. Francis continues, “are currently involved in various occupations, and as a result, several job categories have emerged, with people often being identified by their job titles rather than as Gangimakkalu or Kabbēras. The Bārikes, for instance, are a group of village helpers who keep the village chāvadi (caste [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] meeting house) clean, attend to the needs of officials visiting the village, and perform other similar tasks. The Jalakaras are gold-dust washers; the Madderu are dyers who use the root of the maddi (Morinda citrifolia) tree; and it seems (though I haven't had time to confirm this) that the Besthas, often considered a distinct caste, are actually a subgroup of the Gangimakkalu, who were originally palanquin-bearers but have diversified into other roles now that palanquins are out of style. The betrothal is officially marked by sharing betel-leaf at the girl’s home, in a manner similar to that of the Kurubas. Similar to the Mādigas, marriage is not finalized for three months after the ceremony. The caste follows the Kuruba tradition of honoring the dead.” Consummation is also delayed for three months, like among the Kurubas and Mādigas, as it's seen as unlucky to have three heads of a household in one home during the first year of marriage. The postponement ensures the birth of a child occurs only in the second year, so during the first year, there are just two heads, husband and wife. In the ceremony for honoring the dead that Mr. Francis mentioned, a pot of water is worshipped in the home on the eleventh day after a funeral and is then taken the next morning to a secluded spot, where it is emptied.

For the following note on the Kabbēras of the Bellary district, I am indebted to Mr. Kothandram Naidu. The caste is sometimes called Ambiga. Breaches of caste rules and customs are enquired into by a panchayat presided over by a headman called Kattemaniavaru. If the fine inflicted on the offender is a heavy one, half goes to the headman, and half to the caste people, who spend it in drink. In serious cases, [5]the offender has to be purified by shaving and drinking holy water (thirtam) given to him by the headman. Both infant and adult marriage are practiced. Sexual license previous to marriage is tolerated, but, before that takes place, the contracting couple have to pay a fine to the headman. At the marriage ceremony, the tāli is tied on the bride’s neck by a Brāhman. Married women carry painted new pots with lights, bathe the bride and bridegroom, etc. Widows are remarried with a ceremonial called Udiki, which is performed at night in a temple by widows, one of whom ties the tāli. No married men or women may be present, and music is not allowed. Divorce is said to be not permitted. In religion the Kabbēras are Vaishnavites, and worship various village deities. The dead are buried. Cloths and food are offered to ancestors during the Dasara festival, excepting those who have died a violent death. Some unmarried girls are dedicated to the goddess Hulugamma as Basavis (dedicated prostitutes).

For the following note on the Kabbēras of the Bellary district, I am grateful to Mr. Kothandram Naidu. The caste is sometimes referred to as Ambiga. Breaches of caste rules and customs are investigated by a panchayat led by a headman called Kattemaniavaru. If the fine imposed on the offender is substantial, half goes to the headman, and the other half to the caste members, who use it for drinks. In serious situations, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the offender must be purified by shaving and drinking holy water (thirtam) given to him by the headman. Both infant and adult marriages are practiced. Sexual freedom before marriage is accepted, but the couple must pay a fine to the headman before getting married. During the wedding ceremony, the tāli is tied around the bride’s neck by a Brāhman. Married women carry painted new pots with lights and bathe the bride and groom, etc. Widows are remarried in a ceremony called Udiki, which takes place at night in a temple, where one widow ties the tāli. No married men or women are allowed to be present, and music is prohibited. Divorce is said to be not permitted. In terms of religion, the Kabbēras are Vaishnavites and worship various village deities. The dead are buried. Clothes and food are offered to ancestors during the Dasara festival, except for those who died a violent death. Some unmarried girls are dedicated to the goddess Hulugamma as Basavis (dedicated prostitutes).

Concerning an agricultural ceremony in the Bellary district, in which the Kabbēras take part, I gather that “on the first full-moon day in the month of Bhadrapada (September), the agricultural population celebrate a feast called Jokumara, to appease the rain-god. The Barikas (women), who are a sub-division of the Kabbēra caste belonging to the Gaurimakkalu section, go round the town or village in which they live, with a basket on their heads containing margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, flowers of various kinds, and holy ashes. They beg alms, especially of the cultivating classes (Kāpus), and, in return for the alms bestowed (usually grain and food), they give some of the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes. The Kāpus, or cultivators, take the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes to their fields, prepare cholum [6](Andropogon Sorghum) kanji, mix these with it, and sprinkle this kanji, or gruel, all round their fields. After this, the Kāpu proceeds to the potter’s kiln in the village or town, fetches ashes from it, and makes a figure of a human being. This figure is placed prominently in some convenient spot in the field, and is called Jokumara, or rain-god. It is supposed to have the power of bringing down the rain in proper time. The figure is sometimes small, and sometimes big.”4

Regarding an agricultural ceremony in the Bellary district that the Kabbēras participate in, I understand that “on the first full-moon day of the month of Bhadrapada (September), the farming community celebrates a feast called Jokumara to honor the rain-god. The Barikas (women), who are a subgroup of the Kabbēra caste from the Gaurimakkalu section, walk around their town or village carrying a basket on their heads filled with margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, various flowers, and holy ashes. They ask for alms, especially from the farming classes (Kāpus), and in exchange for the alms given (usually grains and food), they offer some margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes. The Kāpus, or farmers, take the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes to their fields, prepare cholum [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__](Andropogon Sorghum) kanji, mix these with it, and sprinkle the kanji, or gruel, all around their fields. After that, the Kāpu goes to the potter’s kiln in the village or town, collects ashes from it, and shapes a figure of a human. This figure is placed in a visible spot in the field and is called Jokumara, or rain-god. It is believed to have the power to bring rain at the right time. The figure can be either small or large.”4

Kabbili.—Kabbili or Kabliga, recorded as a sub-division of Bestha, is probably a variant of Kabbēra.

Kabbili.—Kabbili or Kabliga, listed as a sub-division of Bestha, is likely a version of Kabbēra.

Kadacchil (knife-grinder or cutler).—A sub-division of Kollan.

Kadacchil (knife-grinder or cutler).—A subgroup of Kollan.

Kadaiyan.—The name, Kadaiyan, meaning last or lowest, occurs as a sub-division of the Pallans. The Kadaiyans are described5 as being lime (shell) gatherers and burners of Rāmēsvaram and the neighbourhood, from whose ranks the pearl-divers are in part recruited at the present day. On the coasts of Madura and Tinnevelly they are mainly Christians, and are said, like the Paravas, to have been converted through the work of St. Francis Xavier.6

Kadaiyan.—The name Kadaiyan, meaning last or lowest, is a subgroup of the Pallans. The Kadaiyans are described5 as lime (shell) gatherers and burners in Rāmēsvaram and the surrounding areas, from whom some of the pearl divers are still recruited today. On the coasts of Madura and Tinnevelly, they are primarily Christians and are said, like the Paravas, to have been converted through the efforts of St. Francis Xavier.6

Kadapēri.—A sub-division of Kannadiyan.

Kadapēri. — A part of Kannadiyan.

Kadavala (pots).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sālē.

Kadavala (pots).—A group of Padma Sālē that practices exogamy.

Kādi (blade of grass).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kādi (blade of grass).—A clan of Kurni.

Kādir.—The Kādirs or Kādans inhabit the Ānaimalai or elephant hills, and the great mountain range which extends thence southward into Travancore. A night journey by rail to Coimbatore, and forty miles by [7]road at the mercy of a typically obstinate jutka pony, which landed me in a dense patch of prickly-pear (Opuntia Dillenii), brought me to the foot of the hills at Sēthumadai, where I came under the kindly hospitality of Mr. H. A. Gass, Conservator of Forests, to whom I am indebted for much information on forest and tribal matters gathered during our camp life at Mount Stuart, situated 2,350 feet above sea-level, in the midst of a dense bamboo jungle, and playfully named after Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff, who visited the spot during his quinquennium as Governor of Madras.

Kādir.—The Kādirs or Kādans live in the Ānaimalai or elephant hills, and the large mountain range that stretches south into Travancore. I took a night train to Coimbatore and then traveled forty miles by [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] road on a typically stubborn pony, which ended up taking me into a thick area of prickly-pear (Opuntia Dillenii). I arrived at the base of the hills at Sēthumadai, where I was warmly welcomed by Mr. H. A. Gass, Conservator of Forests, who shared a lot of information about forest and tribal issues that he had gathered during our time camping at Mount Stuart, which is 2,350 feet above sea level, surrounded by a dense bamboo jungle, and playfully named after Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff, who visited the area during his five-year term as Governor of Madras.

At Sēthumadai I made the acquaintance of my first Kādir, not dressed, as I hoped, in a primitive garb of leaves, but wearing a coloured turban and the cast-off red coat of a British soldier, who had come down the hill to carry up my camp bath, which acted as an excellent umbrella, to protect him from the driving monsoon showers. Very glad was I of his services in helping to convey my clothed, and consequently helpless self, across the mountain torrents, swollen by a recent burst of monsoon rain.

At Sēthumadai, I met my first Kādir, not wearing the simple leaf attire I had imagined, but instead donning a colorful turban and an old red coat that belonged to a British soldier. He had come down the hill to bring up my camp bath, which worked great as an umbrella, protecting him from the pouring monsoon rain. I was really thankful for his help in getting my clothed, and thus helpless, self across the mountain streams that had swelled due to a recent downpour.

The Kādir forest guards, of whom there are several in Government service, looked, except for their noses, very unjungle-like by contrast with their fellow-tribesmen, being smartly dressed in regulation Norfolk jacket, knickerbockers, pattis (leggings), buttons, and accoutrements.

The Kādir forest guards, who are several in government service, looked, except for their noses, very unlike their jungle counterparts, as they were sharply dressed in standard Norfolk jackets, knickerbockers, leggings, buttons, and gear.

On arrival at the forest depôt, with its comfortable bungalows and Kādir settlement, I was told by a native servant that his master was away, as an “elephant done tumble in a fit.” My memory went back to the occasion many years ago, when, as a medical student, I took part in the autopsy of an elephant, which died in convulsions at the London Zoological Gardens. It transpired later [8]in the day that a young and grown-up cow elephant had tumbled, not in a fit, but into a pit made with hands for the express purpose of catching elephants. The story has a philological significance, and illustrates the difficulty which the Tamulian experiences in dealing with the letter F. An incident is still cherished at Mount Stuart in connection with a sporting globe-trotter, who was accredited to the Conservator of Forests for the purpose of putting him on to “bison” (the gaur, Bos gaurus), and other big game. On arrival at the depôt, he was informed that his host had gone to see the “ellipence.” Incapable of translating the pigeon-English of the native butler, and, concluding that a financial reckoning was being suggested, he ordered the servant to pay the baggage coolies their elli-pence, and send them away. To a crusted Anglo-Indian it is clear that ellipence could only mean elephants. Sir M. E. Grant Duff tells7 the following story of a man, who was shooting on the Ānaimalais. In his camp was an elephant, who, in the middle of the night, began to eat the thatch of the hut, in which he was sleeping. His servant in alarm rushed in and awoke him, saying “Elephant, Sahib, must, must (mad).” The sleeper, half-waking and rolling over, replied “Oh, bother the elephant. Tell him he mustn’t.”

On arriving at the forest depot, with its cozy bungalows and Kadir settlement, a local servant told me that his master was away because an "elephant had fallen down in a fit." This reminded me of when, many years ago, as a medical student, I took part in the autopsy of an elephant that died from convulsions at the London Zoo. Later in the day, it turned out that a young adult cow elephant had actually fallen, not from a fit, but into a pit specifically dug to capture elephants. The story has linguistic significance and highlights the challenge the Tamil people face with the letter F. There's a story still remembered at Mount Stuart about a traveler who was sent to the Conservator of Forests to help him with "bison" (the gaur, Bos gaurus) and other big game. When he arrived at the depot, he was told that his host had gone to see the "ellipence." Unable to understand the broken English of the native butler and assuming a financial matter was being raised, he told the servant to pay the baggage coolies their elli-pence and send them away. To an experienced Anglo-Indian, it's obvious that ellipence could only refer to elephants. Sir M. E. Grant Duff shares a story about a man hunting in the Anaimalais. In his camp, there was an elephant that, in the middle of the night, started eating the thatch of the hut he was sleeping in. Alarmed, his servant rushed in and woke him, saying, "Elephant, Sahib, must, must (mad)." The sleeper, still half-asleep and rolling over, replied, "Oh, bother the elephant. Tell him he mustn’t."

The salient characteristics of the Kādirs may be briefly summed up as follows: short stature, dark skin, platyrhine. Men and women have the teeth chipped. Women wear a bamboo comb in the back-hair. Those whom I met spoke a Tamil patois, running up the scale in talking, and finishing, like a Suffolker, on a higher note than they commenced on. But I am told that some [9]of them speak a mixture of debased Tamil and Malayālam. I am informed by Mr. Vincent that the Kādirs have a peculiar word Āli, denoting apparently a fellow or thing, which they apply as a suffix to names, e.g., Karaman Āli, black fellow; Mudi Āli, hairy fellow; Kutti Āli, man with a knife; Pūv Āli, man with a flower. Among nicknames, the following occur: white mother, white flower, beauty, tiger, milk, virgin, love, breasts. The Kādirs are excellent mimics, and give a clever imitation of the mode of speech of the Muduvans, Malasars, and other hill tribes.

The key traits of the Kādirs can be summarized as follows: they are short, have dark skin, and a flat nose. Both men and women have chipped teeth. Women wear a bamboo comb in their hair. The people I met spoke a Tamil dialect, rising in pitch as they talked, and finishing, like someone from Suffolk, on a higher note than they started. However, I’ve been told that some [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] speak a mix of broken Tamil and Malayālam. Mr. Vincent informs me that the Kādirs have a unique word, Āli, which seems to refer to a person or thing, and they use it as a suffix to names, for example, Karaman Āli (black fellow), Mudi Āli (hairy fellow); Kutti Āli (man with a knife); Pūv Āli (man with a flower). Their nicknames include: white mother, white flower, beauty, tiger, milk, virgin, love, and breasts. The Kādirs are great mimics and can cleverly imitate the speech patterns of the Muduvans, Malasars, and other hill tribes.

Kādir Huts.

Kādir Huts.

Kādir Huts.

The Kādirs afford a typical example of happiness without culture. Unspoiled by education, the advancing wave of which has not yet engulfed them, they still retain many of their simple “manners and customs.” Quite refreshing was it to hear the hearty shrieks of laughter of the nude curly-haired children, wholly illiterate, and happy in their ignorance, as they played at funerals, or indulged in the amusement of making mud pies, and scampered off to their huts on my appearance. The uncultured Kādir, living a hardy out-door life, and capable of appreciating to the full the enjoyment of an “apathetic rest” as perfect bliss, has, I am convinced, in many ways, the advantage over the poor under-fed student with a small-paid appointment under Government as the narrow goal to which the laborious passing of examination tests leads.

The Kādirs are a great example of happiness without culture. Untouched by education, which hasn't yet reached them, they still hold onto many of their simple “manners and customs.” It was truly refreshing to hear the joyful laughter of the naked curly-haired children, completely illiterate and blissfully unaware, as they played at funerals or enjoyed making mud pies, darting off to their huts when they saw me. The unrefined Kādir, living a rugged outdoor life and fully appreciating the bliss of an “apathetic rest,” has, I believe, many advantages over the struggling, underfed student stuck in a low-paying government job, who is focused solely on reaching the narrow goal of passing exam tests.

Living an isolated existence, confined within the thinly-populated jungle, where Nature furnishes the means of obtaining all the necessaries of life, the Kādir possesses little, if any, knowledge of cultivation, and objects to doing work with a māmuti, the instrument which serves the gardener in the triple capacity of spade, rake, and hoe. But armed with a keen-edged bill-hook [10]he is immense. As Mr. O. H. Bensley says:8 “The axiom that the less civilised men are, the more they are able to do every thing for themselves, is well illustrated by the hill-man, who is full of resource. Give him a simple bill-hook, and what wonders he will perform. He will build houses out of etâh, so neat and comfortable as to be positively luxurious. He will bridge a stream with canes and branches. He will make a raft out of bamboo, a carving knife out of etâh, a comb out of bamboo, a fishing-line out of fibre, and fire from dry wood. He will find food for you where you think you must starve, and show you the branch which, if cut, will give you drink. He will set traps for beasts and birds, which are more effective than some of the most elaborate products of machinery.” A European, overtaken by night in the jungle, unable to light fire by friction or to climb trees to gather fruits, ignorant of the edible roots and berries, and afraid of wild beasts, would, in the absence of comforts, be quite as unhappy and ill-at-ease as a Kādir surrounded by plenty at an official dinner party.

Living in isolation in the sparsely populated jungle, where nature provides everything needed for life, the Kādir has little to no knowledge of farming and dislikes using a māmuti, the tool that serves as a spade, rake, and hoe for gardeners. But with a sharp bill-hook [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], he’s incredibly skilled. As Mr. O. H. Bensley states: 8 “The saying that the less civilized people are, the more they can do for themselves, is well shown by the hill-man, who is very resourceful. Give him a simple bill-hook, and he will accomplish amazing things. He will build homes from etâh that are neat, comfortable, and even luxurious. He will create a bridge over a stream using canes and branches. He will craft a raft from bamboo, a carving knife from etâh, a comb from bamboo, a fishing line from fiber, and he’ll create fire from dry wood. He will find food for you in places where you think you'll starve and will point out the branch that, when cut, provides water. He will set traps for animals and birds that are more effective than some advanced machinery.” A European caught in the jungle at night, unable to start a fire by friction, climb trees for fruit, not knowing about edible roots and berries, and scared of wild animals, would feel just as miserable and uneasy without comforts as a Kādir would feel surrounded by abundance at an official dinner party.

At the forest depôt the Kādir settlement consists of neatly constructed huts, made of bamboo deftly split with a bill-hook in their long axis, thatched with leaves of the teak tree (Tectona grandis) and bamboo (Ochlandra travancorica), and divided off into verandah and compartments by means of bamboo partitions. But the Kādirs are essentially nomad in habit, living in small communities, and shifting from place to place in the jungle, whence they suddenly re-appear as casually as if they had only returned from a morning stroll instead of a long camping expedition. When wandering in the jungle, the Kādirs [11]make a rough lean-to shed covered over with leaves, and keep a small fire burning through the night, to keep off bears, elephants, tigers, and leopards. They are, I am told, fond of dogs, which they keep chiefly as a protection against wild beasts at night. The camp fire is lighted by means of a flint and the floss of the silk-cotton tree (Bombax malabaricum), over which powdered charcoal has been rubbed. Like the Kurumbas, the Kādirs are not, in a general way, afraid of elephants, but are careful to get out of the way of a cow with young, or a solitary rover, which may mean mischief. On the day following my descent from Mount Stuart, an Oddē cooly woman was killed on the ghāt road by a solitary tusker. Familiarity with wild beasts, and comparative immunity from accident, have bred contempt for them, and the Kādirs will go where the European, fresh to elephant land, fears to tread, or conjures every creak of a bamboo into the approach of a charging tusker. As an example of pluck worthy of a place in Kipling’s ‘Jungle-book,’ I may cite the case of a hill-man and his wife, who, overtaken by night in the jungle, decided to pass it on a rock. As they slept, a tiger carried off the woman. Hearing her shrieks, the sleeping man awoke, and followed in pursuit in the vain hope of saving his wife. Coming on the beast in possession of the mangled corpse, he killed it at close quarters with a spear. Yet he was wholly unconscious that he had performed an act of heroism worthy of the bronze cross ‘for valour.’

At the forest depot, the Kādir settlement consists of well-built huts made from bamboo split lengthwise with a bill-hook, covered with thatch from teak leaves (Tectona grandis) and bamboo (Ochlandra travancorica). The huts are divided into verandas and rooms using bamboo partitions. However, the Kādirs are mainly nomadic, living in small groups and moving around the jungle, appearing as casually as if they had just come back from a morning walk instead of a long camping trip. While wandering in the jungle, the Kādirs [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] make a simple lean-to covered with leaves and keep a small fire burning overnight to ward off bears, elephants, tigers, and leopards. I’ve heard that they like dogs, which they mainly keep to protect against wild animals at night. They light their campfire using a flint and the fluff from the silk-cotton tree (Bombax malabaricum), which they rub with powdered charcoal. Like the Kurumbas, the Kādirs typically aren't afraid of elephants but make sure to stay clear of any mother cows or solitary bulls, as those could be dangerous. The day after I came down from Mount Stuart, an Oddē cooly woman was killed on the ghāt road by a lone tusker. Their familiarity with wild animals and relative safety from accidents have made them disregard the dangers; the Kādirs go where Westerners, new to the land of elephants, are too afraid to venture, interpreting every sound of bamboo as a charging tusker. As an example of bravery worthy of Kipling’s ‘Jungle Book,’ I can mention a hill man and his wife who decided to spend a night on a rock in the jungle when darkness fell. While they were sleeping, a tiger took the woman. Hearing her screams, the husband awoke and chased after them in the desperate hope of rescuing her. When he found the tiger with her mutilated body, he killed it up close with a spear. Yet, he was completely unaware that he had done something heroic deserving of a bronze cross ‘for valor.’

Kādir.

Kādir.

Kadir.

The Kādirs carry loads strapped on the back over the shoulders by means of fibre, instead of on the head in the manner customary among coolies in the plains; and women on the march may be seen carrying the cooking utensils on their backs, and often have a child strapped on the top of their household goods. The dorsal position [12]of the babies, huddled up in a dirty cloth, with the ends slung over the shoulders and held in the hands over the chest, at once caught my eye, as it is contrary to the usual native habit of straddling the infants across the loins as a saddle.

The Kādirs carry loads strapped across their backs using fiber instead of on their heads like the coolies in the plains typically do. Women on the move can be seen with cooking utensils on their backs, often with a child strapped on top of their belongings. The way the babies are positioned on their backs, bundled in a dirty cloth with the ends draped over their shoulders and held in place with their hands at their chests, immediately caught my attention, as it’s different from the usual practice of carrying infants across the waist like a saddle.

Mr. Vincent informs me that “when the planters first came to the hills, the Kādirs were found practically without clothes of any description, with very few ornaments, and looking very lean and emaciated. All this, however, changed with the advent of the European, as the Kādirs then got advances in hard cash, clothes, and grain, to induce them to work. For a few years they tried to work hard, but were failures, and now I do not suppose that a dozen men are employed on the estates on the hills. They would not touch manure owing to caste scruples; they could not learn to prune; and with a mamoti (spade) they always promptly proceeded to chop their feet about in their efforts to dig pits.” The Kādirs have never claimed, like the Todas, and do not possess any land on the hills. But the Government has declared the absolute right of the hill tribes to collect all the minor forest produce, and to sell it to the Government through the medium of a contractor, whose tender has been previously accepted. The contractor pays for the produce in coin at a fair market rate, and the Kādirs barter the money so obtained for articles of food with contractors appointed by Government to supply them with their requirements at a fixed rate, which will leave a fair, but not exorbitant margin of profit to the vendor. The principal articles of minor forest produce of the Ānaimalai hills are wax, honey, cardamoms, myrabolams, ginger, dammer, turmeric, deer horns, elephant tusks, and rattans. And of these, cardamoms, wax, honey, and rattans are the most important. Honey and wax are [13]collected at all seasons, and cardamoms from September to November. The total value of the minor produce collected, in 1897–98, in the South Coimbatore division (which includes the Ānaimalais) was Rs. 7,886. This sum was exceptionally high owing to a good cardamom crop. An average year would yield a revenue of Rs. 4,000–5,000, of which the Kādirs receive approximately 50 per cent. They work for the Forest Department on a system of short advances for a daily wage of 4 annas. And, at the present day, the interests of the Forest Department and planters, who have acquired land on the Ānaimalais, both anxious to secure hill men for labour, have come into mild collision.

Mr. Vincent tells me that “when the planters first arrived in the hills, the Kādirs were found nearly naked, with very few ornaments, and looking really thin and unhealthy. However, all of this changed when the Europeans came, as the Kādirs then received cash advances, clothes, and food to encourage them to work. For a few years, they tried to work hard, but they struggled, and now I don't think more than a dozen men are employed on the estates in the hills. They wouldn't handle manure due to caste beliefs; they couldn’t learn to prune; and with a mamoti (spade), they just kept chopping their feet while trying to dig pits.” The Kādirs have never claimed land like the Todas, and they don’t own any land in the hills. But the Government has recognized the full right of the hill tribes to collect all minor forest products and sell them to the Government through a contractor, whose bid has been previously accepted. The contractor pays for the products in cash at a fair market rate, and the Kādirs exchange the money they earn for food with contractors appointed by the Government to supply them at a fixed rate, which allows for a reasonable but not excessive profit for the vendor. The main minor forest products from the Ānaimalai hills are wax, honey, cardamoms, myrabolams, ginger, dammer, turmeric, deer horns, elephant tusks, and rattans. Out of these, cardamoms, wax, honey, and rattans are the most significant. Honey and wax are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]collected year-round, and cardamoms are harvested from September to November. The total value of the minor produce collected in 1897-98 in the South Coimbatore division (which includes the Ānaimalais) was Rs. 7,886. This amount was exceptionally high due to a good cardamom crop. An average year would generate a revenue of Rs. 4,000-5,000, of which the Kādirs receive about 50 percent. They work for the Forest Department on a system of short advances for a daily wage of 4 annas. These days, the interests of the Forest Department and the planters, who have acquired land in the Ānaimalais, both eager to hire hill men for labor, have started to mildly clash.

Kādir.

Kādir.

Kadir.

Some Kādirs are good trackers, and a few are good shikāris. A zoological friend, who had nicknamed his small child his “little shikarī” (=little sportsman) was quite upset because I, hailing from India, did not recognise the word with his misplaced accent. One Kādir, named Viapoori Muppan, is still held in the memory of Europeans, who made a good living, in days gone by, by shooting tuskers, and had one arm blown off by the bursting of a gun. He is reputed to have been a much married man, greatly addicted to strong drinks, and to have flourished on the proceeds of his tusks. At the present day, if a Kādir finds tusks, he must declare the find as treasure-trove, and hand it over to Government, who rewards him at the rate of Rs. 15 to Rs. 25 per maund of 25 lb. according to the quality. Government makes a good profit on the transaction, as exceptionally good tusks have been known to sell for Rs. 5 per lb. If the find is not declared, and discovered, the possessor thereof is punished for theft according to the Act. By an elastic use of the word cattle, it is, for the purposes of the Madras Forest Act, made to include such a heterogeneous [14]zoological collection of animals as elephants, sheep, pigs, goats, camels, buffaloes, horses—and asses. This classification recalls to mind the occasion on which the Flying-fox or Fox-bat was included in an official list of the insectivorous birds of the Presidency; and, further, a report on the wild animals of a certain district, which was triumphantly headed with the “wild tattu,” the long-suffering, but pig-headed country pony.

Some Kādirs are skilled trackers, and a few are talented hunters. A zoologist friend, who affectionately nicknamed his young child “little shikarī” (little sportsman), was quite upset because I, coming from India, didn’t recognize the word with his offbeat accent. One Kādir, named Viapoori Muppan, is still remembered by Europeans who used to make a decent living shooting elephants and had one arm blown off by a gun explosion. He’s said to have been married many times, had a heavy drinking habit, and thrived off the profits from his tusks. Nowadays, if a Kādir finds tusks, he must report it as treasure and hand it over to the government, which pays him between Rs. 15 and Rs. 25 per maund (25 lb.), depending on quality. The government makes a good profit from this since exceptionally good tusks can sell for Rs. 5 per lb. If the find isn't reported and is discovered later, the owner will face theft charges under the law. By a broad interpretation of the word cattle, the Madras Forest Act includes a diverse array of animals like elephants, sheep, pigs, goats, camels, buffaloes, horses—and donkeys. This classification brings to mind the time when the Flying-fox or Fox-bat was mistakenly listed as an insect-eating bird in an official document, and also a report on the wild animals of a particular district that boastfully featured the “wild tattu,” the long-suffering but stubborn local pony.

I gather, from an account of the process by one who had considerable knowledge of the Kādirs, that “they will only remove the hives of bees during dark nights, and never in the daytime or on moonlight nights. In removing them from cliffs, they use a chain made of bamboo or rattan, fixed to a stake or a tree on the top. The man, going down this fragile ladder, will only do so while his wife, or son watches above to prevent any foul play. They have a superstition that they should always return by the way they go down, and decline to get to the bottom of the cliff, although the distance may be less, and the work of re-climbing avoided. For hives on trees, they tie one or more long bamboos to reach up to the branch required, and then climb up. They then crawl along the branch until the hive is reached. They devour the bee-bread and the bee-maggots or larvæ, swallowing the wax as well.” In a note on a shooting expedition in Travancore,9 Mr. J. D. Rees, describing the collection of honey by the Kādirs of the southern hills, says that they “descend giddy precipices at night, torch in hand, to smoke out the bees, and take away their honey. A stout creeper is suspended over the abyss, and it is established law of the jungle that no brother shall assist in holding it. But it is more [15]interesting to see them run a ladder a hundred feet up the perpendicular stem of a tree, than to watch them disappearing over a precipice. Axe in hand, the honey-picker makes a hole in the bark for a little peg, standing on which he inserts a second peg higher up, ties a long cane from one to the other, and by night—for the darkness gives confidence—he will ascend the tallest trees, and bring down honey without any accident.” I have been told, with how much of truth I know not, that, when a Kādir goes down the face of a rock or precipice in search of honey, he sometimes takes with him, as a precautionary measure, and guarantee of his safety, the wife of the man who is holding the ladder above.

I’ve learned from someone knowledgeable about the Kādirs that “they will only remove beehives during dark nights and never in the daytime or on moonlit nights. When taking them from cliffs, they use a chain made of bamboo or rattan, tied to a stake or a tree at the top. The person going down this unsteady ladder only does so while their wife or son watches from above to prevent any trouble. They believe they should always return the way they came down, and refuse to go to the bottom of the cliff, even if it’s a shorter distance and avoids the need to climb back up. For hives in trees, they tie one or more long bamboo poles to reach the needed branch, then climb up. They crawl along the branch until they reach the hive, and they eat the bee bread and bee larvae, swallowing the wax as well.” In a note about a shooting trip in Travancore, 9 Mr. J. D. Rees, describing how the Kādirs in the southern hills collect honey, says they “descend dizzying cliffs at night, torch in hand, to smoke out the bees and collect their honey. A strong vine is stretched over the edge, and it’s an unspoken rule of the jungle that no one shall help hold it. However, it’s more [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]interesting to watch them run a ladder up a vertical tree trunk than to see them disappear over a cliff. With an axe in hand, the honey collector makes a hole in the bark for a small peg, stands on it to insert a second peg higher up, ties a long cane between the two, and by night—since the darkness gives them confidence—they climb the tallest trees and get honey without any accidents.” I’ve been told, though I’m not sure how true it is, that when a Kādir goes down a rock face or cliff to search for honey, he sometimes brings along the wife of the person holding the ladder above as a precaution and guarantee of his safety.

Often, when out on the tramp with the late Government Botanist, Mr. M. A. Lawson, I have heard him lament that it is impossible to train arboreal monkeys to collect specimens of the fruit and flowers of lofty forest trees, which are inaccessible to the ordinary man. Far superior to any trained Simian is the Kādir, who, by means of pegs or notches, climbs even the tallest masts of trees with an agility which recalls to memory the celebrated picture in “Punch,” representing Darwin’s ‘Habit of climbing plants.’ For the ascent of comparatively low trees, notches are made with a bill-hook, alternately right and left, at intervals of about thirty inches. To this method the Kādir will not have recourse in wet weather, as the notches are damp and slippery, and there is the danger of an insecure foot-hold.

Often, when out hiking with the former Government Botanist, Mr. M. A. Lawson, I’ve heard him express his frustration that it’s impossible to train tree-dwelling monkeys to gather samples of the fruits and flowers from tall forest trees, which are hard to reach for an average person. Far better than any trained monkey is the Kādir, who climbs even the tallest trees using pegs or notches with a skill that reminds one of the famous cartoon in “Punch” showing Darwin’s ‘Habit of climbing plants.’ For climbing relatively short trees, notches are made with a bill-hook, alternating right and left, about every thirty inches. The Kādir avoids this method in rainy weather because the notches get damp and slippery, creating a risk of slipping.

An important ethnographic fact, and one which is significant, is that the detailed description of tree-climbing by the Dyaks of Borneo, as given by Wallace,10 might have been written on the Ānaimalai hills, and would [16]apply equally well in every detail to the Kādir. “They drove in,” Wallace writes, “a peg very firmly at about three feet from the ground, and, bringing one of the long bamboos, stood it upright close to the tree, and bound it firmly to the two first pegs by means of a bark cord and small notches near the head of each peg. One of the Dyaks now stood on the first peg and drove in a third about level with his face, to which he tied the bamboo in the same way, and then mounted another step, standing on one foot, and holding by the bamboo at the peg immediately above him, while he drove in the next one. In this manner he ascended about twenty feet, when the upright bamboo became thin; another was handed up by his companion, and this was joined on by tying both bamboos to three or four of the pegs. When this was also nearly ended, a third was added, and shortly after the lowest branch of the tree was reached, along which the young Dyak scrambled. The ladder was perfectly safe, since, if any one peg were loose or faulty, the strain would be thrown on several others above and below it. I now understood the use of the line of bamboo pegs sticking in trees, which I had often seen.”

An important ethnographic fact, which holds significant meaning, is that the detailed description of tree-climbing by the Dyaks of Borneo, as noted by Wallace,10 could easily have been written about the Ānaimalai hills, and would [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] apply equally well to every detail regarding the Kādir. “They drove in,” Wallace writes, “a peg firmly about three feet off the ground, then took one of the long bamboos, stood it upright next to the tree, and tied it securely to the first two pegs using a bark cord and small notches near the top of each peg. One of the Dyaks stood on the first peg and drove in a third peg at face level, to which he tied the bamboo in the same way, then stepped up another level, standing on one foot and holding onto the bamboo at the peg just above him while he drove in the next one. This way, he climbed about twenty feet, when the upright bamboo became thinner; another was handed up by his partner, and it was secured by tying both bamboos to three or four of the pegs. Once this was nearly complete, a third bamboo was added, and shortly after, the lowest branch of the tree was reached, along which the young Dyak climbed. The ladder was completely safe since if any single peg was loose or faulty, the strain would shift to several others above and below it. I began to understand the purpose of the line of bamboo pegs stuck in trees, which I had often seen.”

In their search for produce in the evergreen forests of the higher ranges, with their heavy rainfall, the Kādirs became unpleasantly familiar with leeches and blue bottle flies, which flourish in the moist climate. And it is recorded that a Kādir, who had been gored and wounded by a bull ‘bison,’ was placed in a position of safety while a friend ran to the village to summon help. He was not away for more than an hour, but, in that short time, flies had deposited thousands of maggots in the wounds, and, when the man was brought into camp, they had already begun burrowing into the flesh, and were with difficulty extracted. On another occasion, [17]the eye-witness of the previous unappetising incident was out alone in the forest, and shot a tiger two miles or so from his camp. Thither he went to collect coolies to carry in the carcase, and was away for about two hours, during which the flies had, like the child in the story, ‘not been idle,’ the skin being a mass of maggots and totally ruined. I have it on authority that, like the Kotas of the Nīlgiris, the Kādirs will eat the putrid and fly-blown flesh of carcases of wild beasts, which they come across in their wanderings. To a dietary which includes succulent roots, which they upturn with a digging stick, bamboo seed, sheep, fowls, rock-snakes (python), deer, porcupines, rats (field, not house), wild pigs, monkeys, etc., they do credit by displaying a hard, well-nourished body. The mealy portion of the seeds of the Cycas tree, which flourishes on the lower slopes of the Ānaimalais, forms a considerable addition to the ménu. In its raw state the fruit is said to be poisonous, but it is evidently wholesome when cut into slices, thoroughly soaked in running water, dried, and ground into flour for making cakes, or baked in hot ashes. Mr. Vincent writes that, “during March, April, and May, the Kādirs have a glorious time. They usually manage to find some wild sago palms, called by them koondtha panai, of the proper age, which they cut down close to the ground. They are then cut into lengths of about 1½ feet, and split lengthways. The sections are then beaten very hard and for a long time with mallets, and become separated into fibre and powder. The powder is thoroughly wetted, tied in cloths and well beaten with sticks. Every now and then, between the beatings, the bag of powder is dipped in water, and well strained. It is then all put into water, when the powder sinks, and the water is poured off. The residue is well boiled, [18]with constant stirring, and, when it is of the consistency of rubber, and of a reddish brown colour, it is allowed to cool, and then cut in pieces to be distributed. This food stuff is palatable enough, but very tough.” The Kādir is said to prefer roasting and eating the flesh of animals with the skin on. For catching rats, jungle-fowl, etc., he resorts to cunningly devised snares and traps made of bamboo and fibre, as a substitute for a gun. Porcupines are caught by setting fire to the scrub jungle round them as they lie asleep, and thus smoking and burning them to death.

In their search for food in the evergreen forests of the higher ranges, with their heavy rainfall, the Kādirs became all too familiar with leeches and blue bottle flies, which thrive in the humid climate. It's noted that a Kādir, who had been gored and injured by a bull ‘bison,’ was moved to a safe spot while a friend went to the village to get help. He was gone for no more than an hour, but in that brief time, flies had laid thousands of maggots in the wounds, and by the time the man was brought back to camp, they had already started burrowing into his flesh, and were difficult to remove. On another occasion, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the witness of the previous grim incident was out in the forest alone and shot a tiger about two miles from his camp. He went to gather porters to carry the carcass, and was gone for roughly two hours, during which the flies had, like the child in the story, ‘not been idle,’ turning the skin into a mass of maggots and completely ruined. I have it on good authority that, like the Kotas of the Nīlgiris, the Kādirs will eat the decaying flesh of wild animals they find in their travels. Their diet includes tasty roots, which they dig up with a stick, bamboo seeds, sheep, chickens, rock-snake (python), deer, porcupines, field rats, wild pigs, monkeys, and more, all of which contribute to their robust and well-nourished appearance. The starchy part of the seeds from the Cycas tree, which grows on the lower slopes of the Ānaimalais, significantly adds to their diet. In its raw form, the fruit is said to be toxic, but it seems to be safe when sliced, soaked in running water, dried, and then ground into flour for cakes or baked in hot ashes. Mr. Vincent writes that, “during March, April, and May, the Kādirs have a fantastic time. They usually manage to find some wild sago palms, called koondtha panai by them, that are the right age, which they cut down close to the ground. They are then cut into lengths of about 1½ feet and split lengthwise. The sections are then pounded hard and for a long time with mallets, separating them into fiber and powder. The powder is thoroughly wet, tied in cloths, and beaten with sticks. Occasionally, between the beatings, the bag of powder is dipped in water and strained. It is then all put into water, allowing the powder to sink while the water is poured off. The remaining mixture is boiled, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] constantly stirred, and, when it reaches a rubbery consistency and a reddish-brown color, it is allowed to cool and then cut into pieces to share. This food is quite tasty, but very tough.” The Kādir is said to prefer roasting and eating the flesh of animals with the skin on. To catch rats, jungle-fowl, and such, he uses cleverly designed snares and traps made from bamboo and fiber as a substitute for a gun. Porcupines are trapped by setting fire to the underbrush around them while they sleep, smoking and burning them to death.

Kādir Tree-climbing.

Kādir Tree-climbing.

Kādir Tree Climbing.

When a Kādir youth’s thoughts turn towards matrimony, he is said to go to the village of his bride-elect, and give her a dowry by working there for a year. On the wedding day a feast of rice, sheep, fowls, and other luxuries is given by the parents of the bridegroom, to which the Kādir community is invited. The bride and bridegroom stand beneath a pandal (arch) decorated with flowers, which is erected outside the home of the bridegroom, while men and women dance separately to the music of drum and fife. The bridegroom’s mother or sister ties the tāli (marriage badge) of gold or silver round the bride’s neck, and her father puts a turban on the head of the bridegroom. The contracting parties link together the little fingers of their right hands as a token of their union, and walk in procession round the pandal. Then, sitting on a reed mat of Kādir manufacture, they exchange betel. The marriage tie can be dissolved for incompatibility of temper, disobedience on the part of the wife, adultery, etc., without appeal to any higher authority than a council of elders, who pronounce judgment on the evidence. As an illustration of the manner in which such a council of hill-men disposes of cases, Mr. Bensley [19]cites the case of a man who was made to carry forty basket loads of sand to the house of the person against whom he had offended. He points out how absolute is the control exercised by the council. Disobedience would be followed by excommunication, and this would mean being turned out into the jungle, to obtain a living in the best way one could.

When a Kādir youth decides to marry, he goes to the village of his future bride and spends a year working to provide her with a dowry. On the wedding day, the bridegroom’s parents host a feast with rice, sheep, chickens, and other delicacies, inviting the Kādir community to join. The bride and groom stand under an arch decorated with flowers, set up outside the groom’s home, while men and women dance separately to the sounds of drums and flutes. The groom’s mother or sister places a gold or silver tāli (marriage badge) around the bride’s neck, and her father puts a turban on the groom’s head. The couple links their little fingers together as a symbol of their union and walks in a procession around the arch. Then, sitting on a reed mat made by the Kādir, they share betel leaves. The marriage can be ended for reasons like incompatibility, disrespect from the wife, or infidelity, without needing to go to any higher authority than a council of elders who make decisions based on the evidence presented. As an example of how such a council of hill-men handles disputes, Mr. Bensley [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]mentions a case where a man was ordered to transport forty basket loads of sand to the home of the person he had wronged. He illustrates the complete control the council has. Not following their orders would result in excommunication, leading to being kicked out into the jungle to survive however possible.

By one Kādir informant I was assured, as he squatted on the floor of my bungalow at “question time,” that it is essential that a wife should be a good cook, in accordance with a maxim that the way to the heart is through the mouth. How many men in civilised western society, who suffer from marrying a wife wholly incompetent, like the first Mrs. David Copperfield, to conduct the housekeeping, might well be envious of the system of marriage as a civil contract to be sealed or unloosed according to the cookery results! Polygyny is indulged in by the Kādirs, who agree with Benedick that “the world must be peopled,” and hold more especially that the numerical strength of their own tribe must be maintained. The plurality of wives seems to be mainly with the desire for offspring, and the father-in-law of one of the forest-guards informed me that he had four wives living. The first two wives producing no offspring, he married a third, who bore him a solitary male child. Considering the result to be an insufficient contribution to the tribe, he married a fourth, who, more prolific than her colleagues, gave birth to three girls and a boy, with which he remained content. In the code of polygynous etiquette, the first wife takes precedence over the others, and each wife has her own cooking utensils.

By one Kādir informant, I was told while he squatted on the floor of my bungalow at “question time” that it’s important for a wife to be a good cook, following the idea that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. How many men in civilized Western society, who struggle with a wife completely inept at managing the household, like the first Mrs. David Copperfield, might envy a marriage system that acts as a civil contract, easily formed or dissolved based on her cooking skills! The Kādirs practice polygyny, agreeing with Benedick that “the world must be peopled,” and particularly believe that their tribe's population must be preserved. The main reason for having multiple wives seems to be the desire for children, and the father-in-law of one of the forest-guards told me he has four wives. His first two wives didn't have any children, so he married a third, who gave him one son. Considering that wasn’t enough for the tribe, he married a fourth wife who, more productive than the others, had three daughters and a son, and he was satisfied with that. In their polygamous customs, the first wife is given priority over the others, and each wife has her own cooking tools.

Special huts are maintained for women during menstruation and parturition. Mr. Vincent informs me that, when a girl reaches puberty, the friends of the [20]family gather together, and a great feast is prepared. All her friends and relations give her a small present of money, according to their means. The girl is decorated with the family jewelry, and made to look as smart as possible. For the first menstrual period, a special hut, called mutthu salai or ripe house, is constructed for the girl to live in during the period of pollution; but at subsequent periods, the ordinary menstruation hut, or unclean house, is used. All girls are said to change their names when they reach puberty. For three months after the birth of a child, the woman is considered unclean. When the infant is a month old, it is named without any elaborate ceremonial, though the female friends of the family collect together. Sexual intercourse ceases on the establishment of pregnancy, and the husband indulges in promiscuity. Widows are not allowed to re-marry, but may live in a state of concubinage. Women are said to suckle their children till they are two or three years old, and a mother has been seen putting a lighted cigarette to the lips of a year old baby immediately after suckling it. If this is done with the intention of administering a sedative, it is less baneful than the pellet of opium administered by ayahs (nurses) to Anglo-Indian babies rendered fractious by troubles climatic, dental, and other. The Kādir men are said to consume large quantities of opium, which is sold to them illicitly. They will not allow the women or children to eat it, and have a belief that the consumption thereof by women renders them barren. The women chew tobacco. The men smoke the coarse tobacco as sold in the bazars, and showed a marked appreciation of Spencer’s Torpedo cheroots, which I distributed among them for the purposes of bribery and conciliation. [21]

Special huts are set up for women during their periods and after childbirth. Mr. Vincent tells me that when a girl hits puberty, her friends and family come together to celebrate with a big feast. Everyone gives her a small cash gift based on what they can afford. The girl is adorned with family jewelry and dressed to look her best. For her first menstrual cycle, a special hut, called mutthu salai or ripe house, is built for her to stay in during her time of menstruation; for later cycles, they use the regular menstruation hut, or unclean house. It's said that all girls change their names when they reach puberty. For three months after a baby is born, the mother is considered unclean. When the baby is a month old, they give it a name without a big ceremony, although the female friends of the family gather. Sexual relations stop once pregnancy is confirmed, and the husband may engage in casual relations. Widows can't remarry but can live as concubines. Women are said to breastfeed their children until they're two or three years old, and there have been reports of mothers letting a one-year-old baby smoke a lighted cigarette right after nursing. If this is done to calm the child, it's less harmful than the opium balls given by nurses to Anglo-Indian babies who are upset due to weather, teething, and other issues. The Kādir men are known to consume a lot of opium, which they buy illegally. They don't let women or children take it, believing that it causes infertility in women. The women chew tobacco, while the men smoke the rough tobacco sold in markets and particularly enjoy Spencer’s Torpedo cheroots, which I handed out to them for bribery and making peace. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The religion of the Kādirs is a crude polytheism, and vague worship of stone images or invisible gods. It is, as Mr. Bensley expresses it, an ejaculatory religion, finding vent in uttering the names of the gods and demons. The gods, as enumerated and described to me, were as follows:—

The religion of the Kādirs is a simple form of polytheism, involving the vague worship of stone images or unseen gods. As Mr. Bensley puts it, it's an impulsive religion, expressed through the recitation of the names of gods and demons. The gods, as listed and explained to me, were as follows:—

(1) Paikutlātha, a projecting rock overhanging a slab of rock, on which are two stones set up on end. Two miles east of Mount Stuart.

(1) Paikutlātha, a jutting rock that hangs over a flat stone, where two stones are placed upright. Two miles east of Mount Stuart.

(2) Athuvisariamma, a stone enclosure, ten to fifteen feet square, almost level with the ground. It is believed that the walls were originally ten feet high, and that the mountain has grown up round it. Within the enclosure there is a representation of the god. Eight miles north of Mount Stuart.

(2) Athuvisariamma, a stone enclosure, measuring about ten to fifteen feet square and nearly level with the ground. It's thought that the walls were originally ten feet tall and that the mountain has since grown around it. Inside the enclosure, there is a depiction of the god. Eight miles north of Mount Stuart.

(3) Vanathavāthi. Has no shrine, but is worshipped anywhere as an invisible god.

(3) Vanathavāthi. There’s no specific shrine, but people worship him anywhere as an invisible god.

(4) Iyappaswāmi, a stone set up beneath a teak tree, and worshipped as a protector against various forms of sickness and disease. In the act of worshipping, a mark is made on the stone with ashes. Two miles and a half from Mount Stuart, on the ghāt road to Sēthumadai.

(4) Iyappaswāmi, a stone placed under a teak tree, is honored as a guardian against different kinds of illness and disease. During the worship, a mark is made on the stone using ashes. It's located two and a half miles from Mount Stuart, along the ghāt road to Sēthumadai.

(5) Māsanyātha, a female recumbent figure in stone on a masonry wall in an open plain near the village of Ānaimalai, before which trial by ordeal is carried out. The goddess has a high repute for her power of detecting thieves or rogues. Chillies are thrown into a fire in her name, and the guilty person suffers from vomiting and diarrhœa.

(5) Māsanyātha, a female reclining figure carved in stone on a masonry wall in an open field near the village of Ānaimalai, is where trials by ordeal take place. The goddess is well-known for her ability to identify thieves or frauds. Chillies are tossed into a fire in her honor, and the guilty person experiences vomiting and diarrhea.

According to Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer,11 the Kādirs are “worshippers of Kāli. On the occasion of [22]the offering to Kāli, a number of virgins are asked to bathe as a preliminary to the preparation of the offering, which consists of rice and some vegetables cooked in honey, and made into a sweet pudding. The rice for this preparation is unhusked by these girls. The offering is considered to be sacred, and is partaken of by all men, women, and children assembled.”

According to Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer, the Kādirs are “worshippers of Kāli. On the occasion of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the offering to Kāli, several virgins are asked to bathe as a preparation for making the offering, which consists of rice and some vegetables cooked in honey and turned into a sweet pudding. The rice for this is husked by these girls. The offering is considered sacred and is shared by all the men, women, and children gathered.”

When Kādirs fall sick, they worship the gods by saluting them with their hands to the face, burning camphor, and offering up fruits, cocoanuts, and betel. Mr. Vincent tells me that they have a horror of cattle, and will not touch the ordure, or other products of the cow. Yet they believe that their gods occasionally reside in the body of a “bison,” and have been known to do pūja (worship) when a bull has been shot by a sportsman. It is noted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer that wild elephants are held in veneration by them, but tame ones are believed to have lost the divine element.

When Kādirs get sick, they worship the gods by bringing their hands to their faces, burning camphor, and offering fruits, coconuts, and betel. Mr. Vincent tells me that they have a strong aversion to cattle and won't touch cow dung or any other cow products. However, they believe that their gods sometimes inhabit the body of a “bison” and are known to do pūja (worship) when a bull is shot by a hunter. Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer notes that they hold wild elephants in high regard, but they think that tame ones have lost their divine spirit.

The Kādirs are said, during the Hindu Vishu festival, to visit the plains, and, on their way, pray to any image which they chance to come across. They are believers in witchcraft, and attribute all diseases to the miraculous workings thereof. They are good exorcists, and trade in mantravādam or magic. Mr. Logan mentions12 that “the family of famous trackers, whose services in the jungles were retained for H.R.H. the Prince of Wales’ (now King Edward) projected sporting tour in the Ānamalai mountains, dropped off most mysteriously, one by one, shortly afterwards, stricken down by an unseen hand, and all of them expressing beforehand their conviction that they were under a certain individual’s spell, and were doomed to certain death at an early date. They [23]were probably poisoned, but how it was managed remains a mystery, although the family was under the protection of a European gentleman, who would at once have brought to light any ostensible foul play.”

The Kādirs are said to visit the plains during the Hindu Vishu festival, and on their way, they pray to any image they happen to come across. They believe in witchcraft and attribute all diseases to its supernatural influence. They are skilled exorcists and deal in mantravādam or magic. Mr. Logan mentions12 that “the family of famous trackers, whose services in the jungles were hired for H.R.H. the Prince of Wales’ (now King Edward) planned sporting tour in the Ānamalai mountains, mysteriously dropped off one by one shortly afterward, struck down by an unseen force, with each of them expressing beforehand their belief that they were under a certain individual's spell and doomed to die soon. They [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]were likely poisoned, but how it was done remains a mystery, even though the family was under the protection of a European gentleman who would have immediately exposed any obvious foul play.”

The Kādir dead are buried in a grave, or, if death occurs in the depths of the jungles, with a paucity of hands available for digging, the corpse is placed in a crevice between the rocks, and covered over with stones. The grave is dug from four to five feet deep. There is no special burial-ground, but some spot in the jungle, not far from the scene of death, is selected. A band of music, consisting of drum and fife, plays weird dirges outside the hut of the deceased, and whistles are blown when it is carried away therefrom. The old clothes of the deceased are spread under the corpse, and a new cloth is put on it. It is tied up in a mat, which completely covers it, and carried to the burial-ground on a bamboo stretcher. As it leaves the hut, rice is thrown over it. The funeral ceremony is simple in the extreme. The corpse is laid in the grave on a mat in the recumbent posture, with the head towards the east, and with split bamboo and leaves placed all round it, so that not a particle of earth can touch it. No stone, or sepulchral monument of any kind, is set up to mark the spot. The Kādir believes that the dead go to heaven, which is in the sky, but has no views as to what sort of place it is. The story that the Kādirs eat their dead originated with Europeans, the origin of it being that no one had ever seen a dead Kādir, a grave, or sign of a burial-place. The Kādirs themselves are reticent as to their method of disposing of the dead, and the story, which was started as a joke, became more or less believed. Mr. Vincent tells me that a well-to-do Kādir family will perform the final death ceremonies eight days after death, but poorer [24]folk have to wait a year or more, till they have collected sufficient money for the expenses thereof. At cock-crow on the morning of the ceremonies, rice, called polli chor, is cooked, and piled up on leaves in the centre of the hut of the deceased. Cooked rice, called tullagu chor, is then placed in each of the four corners of the hut, to propitiate the gods, and to serve as food for them and the spirit of the dead person. At a short distance from the hut, rice, called kanal chor, is cooked for all Kādirs who have died, and been buried. The relations and friends of the deceased commence to cry, and make lamentations, and proclaim his good qualities, most of which are fictitious. After an hour or so, they adjourn to the hut of the deceased, where the oldest man present invokes the gods, and prays to them and to the heaped up food. A pinch from each of the heaps is thrown into the air as a gift of food to the gods, and those present fall to, and eat heartily, being careful to partake of each of the food-stuffs, consisting of rice, meat, and vegetables, which have been prepared.

The Kādir dead are buried in a grave, or if someone dies deep in the jungle and there aren’t enough people to dig, the body is placed in a crevice between the rocks and covered with stones. The grave is dug four to five feet deep. There’s no special burial ground; instead, a spot in the jungle close to where the person died is chosen. A band with drums and flutes plays somber tunes outside the deceased's hut, and whistles are blown when the body is carried away. The deceased's old clothes are placed under the body, and a new cloth is put on top. The body is wrapped in a mat that completely covers it and is carried to the burial site on a bamboo stretcher. As it leaves the hut, rice is scattered over it. The funeral ceremony is very simple. The body is laid in the grave on a mat, lying down with the head to the east. Split bamboo and leaves are placed all around it so that no earth touches it. No stones or memorials are erected to mark the grave. The Kādirs believe the dead go to heaven, which is in the sky, but they have no idea what it's like. The story that the Kādirs eat their dead came from Europeans, who thought that since no one had ever seen a dead Kādir, a grave, or any sign of a burial place, it must be true. The Kādirs themselves are secretive about how they handle the dead, and what started as a joke turned into a widely held belief. Mr. Vincent tells me that a wealthy Kādir family will hold the final death ceremonies eight days after death, but poorer families have to wait a year or more until they've saved enough money for the costs. At dawn on the day of the ceremonies, rice, called polli chor, is cooked and piled on leaves in the center of the deceased's hut. Cooked rice, known as tullagu chor, is placed in each of the four corners of the hut to honor the gods and provide food for them and the spirit of the deceased. A short distance from the hut, rice, called kanal chor, is cooked for all Kādirs who have died and been buried. The relatives and friends of the deceased begin to cry and lament, praising the deceased's virtues, most of which are made up. After about an hour, they move to the hut where the oldest man present calls upon the gods, praying to them and to the heaped food. A pinch from each pile is tossed into the air as an offering to the gods, and those present sit down to eat heartily, making sure to enjoy all the different foods that have been prepared, including rice, meat, and vegetables.

On a certain Monday in the months of Ādi and Āvani, the Kādirs observe a festival called nōmbu, during which a feast is held, after they have bathed and anointed themselves with oil. It was, they say, observed by their ancestors, but they have no definite tradition as to its origin or significance. It is noted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer that, at the Ōnam festival, presents in the shape of rice, cloths, coats, turbans, caps, ear-rings, tobacco, opium, salt, oil and cocoanuts are distributed among the Kādirs by the Forest Department.

On a certain Monday in the months of Ādi and Āvani, the Kādirs celebrate a festival called nōmbu, during which they have a feast after bathing and anointing themselves with oil. They say it was observed by their ancestors, but they don't have a clear tradition regarding its origin or significance. Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer notes that at the Ōnam festival, the Forest Department distributes gifts such as rice, clothes, coats, turbans, caps, earrings, tobacco, opium, salt, oil, and coconuts among the Kādirs.

According to Mr. Bensley, “the Kādir has an air of calm dignity, which leads one to suppose that he had some reason for having a more exalted opinion of himself than that entertained for him by the outside world. A [25]forest officer of a philanthropic turn had a very high opinion of the sturdy independence and blunt honesty of the Kādir, but he once came unexpectedly round a corner, to find two of them exploring the contents of his port-manteau, from which they had abstracted a pair of scissors, a comb, and a looking glass.” “The Kādirs,” Mr. (now Sir F. A.) Nicholson writes,13 “are, as a rule, rather short in stature, and deep-chested, like most mountaineers; and, like many true mountaineers, they rarely walk with a straight leg. Hence their thigh muscles are often abnormally developed at the expense of those of the calf. Hence, too, in part, their dislike to walking long distances on level ground, though their objection, mentioned by Colonel Douglas Hamilton, to carrying loads on the plains, is deeper-rooted than that arising from mere physical disability. This objection is mainly because they are rather a timid race, and never feel safe out of the forests. They have also affirmed that the low-country air is very trying to them.” As a matter of fact, they very rarely go down to the plains, even as far as the village of Ānaimalai, only fifteen miles distant from Mount Stuart. One woman, whom I saw, had been as far as Palghāt by railway from Coimbatore, and had returned very much up-to-date in the matter of jewelry and the latest barbarity in imported piece-good body-cloth.

According to Mr. Bensley, “the Kādir has an air of calm dignity that makes one think he has a reason for having a higher opinion of himself than what the outside world has of him. A [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]forest officer with a philanthropic nature had a very high opinion of the rugged independence and blunt honesty of the Kādir, but he once came around a corner unexpectedly to find two of them rummaging through his suitcase, from which they had taken a pair of scissors, a comb, and a mirror.” “The Kādirs,” Mr. (now Sir F. A.) Nicholson writes, 13 “are generally quite short and deep-chested, like most mountaineers; and, like many true mountaineers, they rarely walk with straight legs. As a result, their thigh muscles are often abnormally developed compared to their calf muscles. This also explains, in part, their dislike for walking long distances on flat ground, although their aversion, mentioned by Colonel Douglas Hamilton, to carrying loads on the plains comes from deeper issues than just physical limitations. This aversion is mainly due to their somewhat timid nature, as they never feel safe away from the forests. They have also stated that the low-country air is very hard on them.” In reality, they hardly ever go down to the plains, even to the village of Ānaimalai, which is only fifteen miles away from Mount Stuart. One woman I saw had traveled as far as Palghāt by train from Coimbatore and had returned very much updated on jewelry and the latest trends in imported fabric.

With the chest-girth of the Kādirs, as well as their general muscular development, I was very much impressed. Their hardiness, Mr. Conner writes,14 has given rise to the observation among their neighbours that the Kādir and Kād Ānai (wild elephant) are much the same sort of animal. [26]

I was really impressed by the chest size and overall muscular development of the Kādirs. Their toughness, Mr. Conner writes,14 has led their neighbors to observe that the Kādir and Kād Ānai (wild elephant) are quite similar animals. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Perhaps the most interesting custom of the Kādirs is that of chipping all or some of the incisor teeth, both upper and lower, into the form of a sharp-pointed, but not serrated cone. The operation, which is performed with a chisel or bill-hook and file by members of the tribe skilled therein, on boys and girls, has been thus described. The girl to be operated on lies down, and places her head against a female friend, who holds her head firmly. A woman takes a sharpened bill-hook, and chips away the teeth till they are shaded to a point, the girl operated on writhing and groaning with the pain. After the operation she appears dazed, and in a very few hours the face begins to swell. Swelling and pain last for a day or two, accompanied by severe headache. The Kādirs say that chipped teeth make an ugly man or woman handsome, and that a person, whose teeth have not been thus operated on, has teeth and eats like a cow. Whether this practice is one which the Kādir, and Mala Vēdar of Travancore, have hit on spontaneously in comparatively recent times, or whether it is a relic of a custom resorted to by their ancestors of long ago, which remains as a stray survival of a custom once more widely practiced by the remote inhabitants of Southern India, cannot be definitely asserted, but I incline to the latter view.

Perhaps the most interesting custom of the Kādirs is chipping all or some of the incisor teeth, both upper and lower, into the shape of a sharp-pointed, but not serrated cone. The procedure, carried out with a chisel or bill-hook and file by skilled members of the tribe, is done on both boys and girls. The girl undergoing the procedure lies down and places her head against a female friend's shoulder, who holds her head securely. A woman takes a sharpened bill-hook and chips away at the teeth until they taper to a point, causing the girl to writhe and groan in pain. After the procedure, she appears dazed, and within a few hours, her face starts to swell. The swelling and pain last for a day or two, along with a severe headache. The Kādirs believe that chipped teeth make an ugly man or woman attractive, and that someone whose teeth have not been altered eats like a cow. Whether this practice is something the Kādirs and Mala Vēdar of Travancore developed independently in relatively recent times or if it’s a remnant of an ancient custom once widely practiced by the early inhabitants of Southern India cannot be definitively established, but I lean toward the latter view.

A friendly old woman, with huge discs in the widely dilated lobes of the ears, and a bamboo five-pronged comb in her back-hair, who acted as spokesman on the occasion of a visit to a charmingly situated settlement in a jungle of magnificent bamboos by the side of a mountain stream, pointed out to me, with conscious pride, that the huts were largely constructed by the females, while the men worked for the sircar (Government). The females also carry water from the streams, collect [27]firewood, dig up edible roots, and carry out the sundry household duties of a housewife. Both men and women are clever at plaiting bamboo baskets, necklets, etc. I was told one morning by a Kādir man, whom I met on the road, as an important item of news, that the women in his settlement were very busy dressing to come and see me—an event as important to them as the dressing of a débutante for presentation at the Court of St. James’. They eventually turned up without their husbands, and evidently regarded my methods as a huge joke organised for the amusement of themselves and their children. The hair was neatly parted, anointed with a liberal application of cocoanut oil, and decked with wild flowers. Beauty spots and lines had been painted with coal-tar dyes on the forehead, and turmeric powder freely sprinkled over the top of the heads of the married women. Some had even discarded the ragged and dirty cotton cloth of every-day life in favour of a colour-printed imported sāri. One bright, good-looking young woman, who had already been through the measuring ordeal, acted as an efficient lady-help in coaching the novices in the assumption of the correct positions. She very readily grasped the situation, and was manifestly proud of her temporary elevation to the rank of standard-bearer to Government.

A friendly old woman, with large earrings in her stretched earlobes and a bamboo five-pronged comb in her hair, who served as the spokesperson during a visit to a beautifully located settlement in a jungle of stunning bamboos next to a mountain stream, proudly pointed out to me that the huts were mostly built by the women, while the men worked for the government. The women also fetch water from the streams, gather firewood, dig up edible roots, and handle the various household chores of a housewife. Both men and women are skilled at weaving bamboo baskets, necklaces, and other items. One morning, a Kadir man I met on the road shared as a significant piece of news that the women in his settlement were very busy getting ready to come and see me—an event as important to them as a debutante preparing for presentation at the Court of St. James. They eventually arrived without their husbands and clearly found my presence amusing, viewing it as a fun event for themselves and their children. Their hair was neatly parted, slicked back with generous amounts of coconut oil, and adorned with wildflowers. Beauty spots and lines were drawn on their foreheads using coal-tar dyes, and turmeric powder was liberally sprinkled on the heads of the married women. Some had even swapped their ragged and dirty everyday cotton cloth for colorful printed imported saris. One bright, attractive young woman, who had already gone through the measuring process, took on the role of assisting the newcomers in striking the right poses. She easily understood the situation and was obviously proud of her temporary role as the representative of the government.

Kādir Boy with Chipped Teeth.

Kādir Boy with Chipped Teeth.

Kādir Boy with Chipped Teeth.

Dr. K. T. Preuss has drawn my attention to an article in Globus, 1899, entitled ‘Die Zauberbilder Schriften der Negrito in Malaka,’ wherein he describes in detail the designs on the bamboo combs worn by the Negritos of Malacca, and compares them with the strikingly similar design on the combs worn by the Kādir women. Dr. Preuss works out in detail the theory that the design is not, as I have elsewhere called it, a geometrical pattern, but consists of a series of hieroglyphics. [28]The collection of Kādir combs in the Madras Museum shows very clearly that the patterns thereon are conventional designs. The bamboo combs worn by the Semang women are stated15 to serve as talismans, to protect them against diseases which are prevalent, or most dreaded by them. Mr. Vincent informs me that, so far as he knows, the Kādir combs are not looked on as charms, and the markings thereon have no mystic significance. A Kādir man should always make a comb, and present it to his intended wife just before marriage, or at the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, and the young men vie with each other as to who can make the nicest comb. Sometimes they represent strange articles on the combs. Mr. Vincent has, for example, seen a comb with a very good imitation of the face of a clock scratched on it.

Dr. K. T. Preuss pointed out an article in Globus, 1899, titled ‘The magic image writings of the Negritos in Malacca,’ where he provides a detailed description of the designs on the bamboo combs used by the Negritos of Malacca and compares them to the remarkably similar designs found on the combs worn by the Kādir women. Dr. Preuss elaborates on the theory that the design isn’t simply a geometric pattern, as I have referred to it before, but actually consists of a series of hieroglyphics. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]The collection of Kādir combs in the Madras Museum clearly shows that the patterns on them are conventional designs. The bamboo combs worn by the Semang women are said15 to act as talismans, protecting them against prevalent diseases or those they fear the most. Mr. Vincent tells me that, as far as he knows, the Kādir combs are not seen as charms, and the markings don't hold any mystical significance. A Kādir man is expected to make a comb and gift it to his future wife just before marriage or after the ceremony, and young men compete to see who can create the best comb. Sometimes, they depict unusual items on the combs. Mr. Vincent has, for example, seen a comb with a very good imitation of a clock face scratched on it.

It is sometimes difficult to distinguish adolescent Kādir youths with curly fringe, chests covered by a cotton cloth, and wearing necklets made of plaited grass or glass and brass beads, from girls. And I was myself several times caught in an erroneous diagnosis of sex. Many of the infants have a charm tied round the neck, which takes the form of a dried tortoise foot; the tooth of a crocodile mimicking a phallus, and supposed to ward off attacks from a mythical water elephant which lives in the mountain streams; or wooden imitations of tiger’s claws. One baby wore a necklet made of the seeds of Coix Lachryma-Jobi (Job’s tears). Males have the lobes of the ears adorned with brass ornaments, and the nostril pierced, and plugged with wood. The ear-lobes of the females are widely dilated with palm-leaf rolls or huge wooden discs, and they wear ear-rings, [29]brass or steel bangles and finger-rings, and bead necklets.

It can be hard to tell apart adolescent Kādir boys with curly bangs, chests wrapped in a cotton cloth, and wearing necklaces made of braided grass or glass and brass beads from girls. I myself was often mistaken in guessing their gender. Many infants wear a charm around their necks, shaped like a dried tortoise foot, the tooth of a crocodile that resembles a phallus—supposed to protect against attacks from a mythical water elephant living in mountain streams—or wooden replicas of tiger claws. One baby had a necklace made of the seeds of Coix Lachryma-Jobi (Job’s tears). Boys have brass ornaments in their ear lobes, and their nostrils are pierced and plugged with wood. Girls have widely stretched earlobes filled with palm-leaf rolls or large wooden discs, and they wear earrings, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] brass or steel bangles, finger rings, and bead necklaces.

Kādir Girl Wearing Comb.

Kādir Girl Wearing Comb.

Kādir Girl with Comb.

It is recorded by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer that the Kādirs are attached to the Rāja of Cochin “by the strongest ties of personal affection and regard. Whenever His Highness tours in the forests, they follow him, carry him from place to place in manjals or palanquins, carry sāman (luggage), and in fact do everything for him. His Highness in return is much attached to them, feeds them, gives them cloths, ornaments, combs, and looking-glasses.”

It is noted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer that the Kādirs are closely connected to the Rāja of Cochin “through strong feelings of personal affection and respect. Whenever His Highness travels through the forests, they follow him, carry him from place to place in manjals or palanquins, carry his luggage, and essentially do everything for him. In return, His Highness is very fond of them, provides them with food, clothes, jewelry, combs, and mirrors.”

The Kādirs will not eat with Malasars, who are beef-eaters, and will not carry boots made of cow-hide, except under protest.

The Kādirs won’t eat with Malasars, who eat beef, and won’t wear boots made from cowhide, unless they have to.

Average stature 157.7 cm.; cephalic index 72.9; nasal index 89.

Average height 157.7 cm; head shape index 72.9; nose shape index 89.

Kadlē.—Kadlē, Kallē, and Kadalē meaning Bengal gram (Cicer arietinum) have been recorded as exogamous septs or gōtras of Kurubas and Kurnis.

Kadlē.—Kadlē, Kallē, and Kadalē meaning Bengal gram (Cicer arietinum) have been noted as exogamous clans or gōtras of Kurubas and Kurnis.

Kādu.—Kādu or Kāttu, meaning wild or jungle, has been recorded as a division of Golla, Irula, Korava, Kurumba, and Tōttiyan. Kādu also occurs as an exogamous sept or gōtra of the Kurnis. Kādu Konkani is stated, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, to mean the bastard Konkanis, as opposed to the Gōd or pure Konkanis. Kāttu Marāthi is a synonym for the bird-catching Kuruvikarans. In the Malabar Wynaad, the jungle Kurumbas are known as Kāttu Nāyakan.

Kādu.—Kādu or Kāttu, which means wild or jungle, has been recorded as a subgroup of the Golla, Irula, Korava, Kurumba, and Tōttiyan. Kādu also appears as an exogamous sept or gōtra within the Kurnis. According to the Madras Census Report of 1901, Kādu Konkani refers to the illegitimate Konkanis, in contrast to the Gōd or pure Konkanis. Kāttu Marāthi is another term for the bird-catching Kuruvikarans. In the Malabar Wynaad, the jungle Kurumbas are identified as Kāttu Nāyakan.

Kādukuttukiravar.—A synonym, meaning one who bores a hole in the ear, for Koravas who perform the operation of piercing the lobes of the ears for various castes. [30]

Kādukuttukiravar.—A synonym for those who bore holes in ears, referring to Koravas who perform ear piercings for various castes. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kaduppattan.—The Kadupattans are said,16 according to the traditional account of their origin, to have been Pattar Brāhmans of Kadu grāmam, who became degraded owing to their supporting the introduction of Buddhism. “The members of this caste are,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,17 “at present mostly palanquin-bearers, and carriers of salt, oil, etc. The educated among them follow the profession of teaching, and are called Ezhuttacchan, i.e., master of learning. Both titles are used in the same family. In the Native State of Cochin, the Kaduppattan is a salt-worker. In British Malabar he is not known to have followed that profession for some generations past, but it may be that, salt manufacture having long ago been stopped in South Malabar, he has taken to other professions, one of which is the carriage of salt. In manners and customs Kaduppattans resemble Nāyars, but their inheritance follows the male line.” The Kaduppattans are described18 by Mr. Logan as “a caste hardly to be distinguished from the Nāyars. They follow a modified makkatayam system of inheritance, in which the property descends from father to son, but not from father to daughter. The girls are married before attaining puberty, and the bridegroom, who is to be the girl’s real husband in after life, arranges the dowry and other matters by means of mediators (enangan). The tāli is tied round the girl’s neck by the bridegroom’s sister or a female relative. At the funeral ceremonies of this class, the barber caste perform priestly functions, giving directions and preparing oblation rice. A widow without male issue is removed on the twelfth day after her husband’s death from his house to that of her own parents. And this is done even if she has female issue. [31]But, on the contrary, if she has borne sons to the deceased, she is not only entitled to remain at her husband’s house, but she continues to have, in virtue of her sons, a joint right over his property.”

Kaduppattan.—The Kadupattans are said, 16 according to their traditional origin story, to have been Pattar Brāhmans from Kadu village who lost their standing because they supported the introduction of Buddhism. “Members of this caste are,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, 17 “mostly palanquin bearers, and carriers of salt, oil, etc. Those who are educated often become teachers and are referred to as Ezhuttacchan, i.e., master of learning. Both titles are used within the same family. In the Native State of Cochin, Kaduppattans work in salt production. In British Malabar, they haven't been involved in that profession for several generations, likely because salt manufacturing ceased in South Malabar long ago, leading them to pursue other trades, one of which is transporting salt. In terms of manners and customs, Kaduppattans resemble Nāyars, but their inheritance follows the male line.” Mr. Logan describes the Kaduppattans 18 as “a caste that is hard to distinguish from the Nāyars. They follow a modified makkatayam inheritance system, where property goes from father to son, but not to daughters. Girls are married before reaching puberty, and the future husband arranges the dowry and other details through intermediaries (enangan). The tāli is tied around the girl’s neck by the bridegroom’s sister or a female relative. During funeral ceremonies, the barber caste acts as priests, giving directions and preparing offering rice. A widow without male children is moved on the twelfth day after her husband’s death from his house back to her parents' home, even if she has female children. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Conversely, if she has sons with the deceased, she not only has the right to stay in her husband’s house but also maintains a joint right over his property due to her sons.”

Kahar.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, the Kahars are returned as a Bengal caste of boatmen and fishermen. In the Mysore Census Report, it is noted that Kahar means in Hindustani a blacksmith, and that those censused were immigrants from the Bombay Presidency.

Kahar.—In the Madras Census Report of 1901, the Kahars are listed as a Bengal caste of boatmen and fishermen. The Mysore Census Report notes that Kahar means a blacksmith in Hindustani, and that the individuals counted were immigrants from the Bombay Presidency.

Kaikātti (one who shows the hand).—A division of the Kanakkans (accountants). The name has its origin in a custom, according to which a married woman is never allowed to communicate with her mother-in-law except by signs.19

Kaikātti (one who shows the hand).—A group of the Kanakkans (accountants). The name comes from a tradition where a married woman can only communicate with her mother-in-law through gestures. 19

Kaikōlan.—The Kaikōlans are a large caste of Tamil weavers found in all the southern districts, who also are found in considerable numbers in the Telugu country, where they have adopted the Telugu language. A legend is current that the Nāyakkan kings of Madura were not satisfied with the workmanship of the Kaikōlans, and sent for foreign weavers from the north (Patnūlkārans), whose descendants now far out-number the Tamil weavers. The word Kaikōlan is the Tamil equivalent of the Sanskrit Vīrabāhu, a mythological hero, from whom both the Kaikōlans and a section of the Paraiyans claim descent. The Kaikōlans are also called Sengundar (red dagger) in connection with the following legend. “The people of the earth, being harassed by certain demons, applied to Siva for help. Siva was enraged against the giants, and sent forth six sparks of fire from his eyes. His wife, Parvati, was frightened, [32]and retired to her chamber, and, in so doing, dropped nine beads from her anklets. Siva converted the beads into as many females, to each of whom was born a hero with full-grown moustaches and a dagger. These nine heroes, with Subramanya at their head, marched in command of a large force, and destroyed the demons. The Kaikōlans or Sengundar are said to be the descendants of Virabāhu, one of these heroes. After killing the demon, the warriors were told by Siva that they should become musicians, and adopt a profession, which would not involve the destruction or injury of any living creature, and, weaving being such a profession, they were trained in it.”20 According to another version, Siva told Parvati that the world would be enveloped in darkness if he should close his eyes. Impelled by curiosity, Parvati closed her husband’s eyes with her hands. Being terrified by the darkness, Parvati ran to her chamber, and, on the way thither, nine precious stones fell from her anklets, and turned into nine fair maidens, with whom Siva became enamoured and embraced them. Seeing later on that they were pregnant, Parvati uttered a curse that they should not bring forth children formed in their wombs. One Padmasura was troubling the people in this world, and, on their praying to Siva to help them, he told Subramanya to kill the Asura. Parvati requested Siva not to send Subramanya by himself, and he suggested the withdrawal of her curse. Accordingly, the damsels gave birth to nine heroes, who, carrying red daggers, and headed by Subramanya, went in search of the Asura, and killed him. The word kaikōl is said to refer to the ratnavēl or precious dagger carried by Subramanya. The Kaikōlans, on the Sura Samharam [33]day during the festival of Subramanya, dress themselves up to represent the nine warriors, and join in the procession.

Kaikōlan.—The Kaikōlans are a large caste of Tamil weavers found throughout all the southern districts, and they also exist in significant numbers in Telugu regions, where they have adopted the Telugu language. There’s a popular legend that the Nāyakkan kings of Madura were dissatisfied with the craftsmanship of the Kaikōlans and summoned foreign weavers from the north (Patnūlkārans), whose descendants now greatly outnumber the Tamil weavers. The term Kaikōlan is the Tamil equivalent of the Sanskrit Vīrabāhu, a mythological hero from whom both the Kaikōlans and a segment of the Paraiyans claim descent. The Kaikōlans are also referred to as Sengundar (red dagger) in connection with the following story. “The people on earth, being tormented by certain demons, appealed to Siva for assistance. Siva was furious with the giants and shot out six sparks of fire from his eyes. His wife, Parvati, got scared and withdrew to her chamber, accidentally dropping nine beads from her anklets. Siva transformed the beads into nine females, and each of them gave birth to a hero with a full-grown mustache and a dagger. These nine heroes, led by Subramanya, marched with a large army and defeated the demons. The Kaikōlans or Sengundar are said to be descendants of Virabāhu, one of these heroes. After defeating the demon, the warriors were instructed by Siva to become musicians and pursue a profession that wouldn't involve harm to any living being, which is how they became trained in weaving.”20 In another version, Siva told Parvati that the world would fall into darkness if he closed his eyes. Driven by curiosity, Parvati covered her husband's eyes with her hands. Terrified by the ensuing darkness, Parvati rushed to her chamber, during which nine precious stones fell from her anklets and turned into nine beautiful maidens, whom Siva became infatuated with and embraced. Later, upon seeing that they were pregnant, Parvati cursed that they would not give birth to children. One Padmasura was troubling the people, and when they prayed to Siva for help, he instructed Subramanya to kill the Asura. Parvati asked Siva not to send Subramanya alone, and he proposed lifting her curse. Consequently, the maidens bore nine heroes who, armed with red daggers and led by Subramanya, set out to find the Asura and killed him. The word kaikōl is believed to refer to the ratnavēl or precious dagger carried by Subramanya. The Kaikōlans, on the Sura Samharam [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] day during the festival of Subramanya, dress up as the nine warriors and participate in the procession.

The name Kaikōlan is further derived from kai (hand), and kōl (shuttle). The Kaikōlans consider the different parts of the loom to represent various Dēvatas and Rishis. The thread is said to have been originally obtained from the lotus stalk rising from Vishnu’s navel. Several Dēvas formed the threads, which make the warp; Nārada became the woof; and Vēdamuni the treadle. Brahma transformed himself into the plank (padamaram), and Adisēsha into the main rope.

The name Kaikōlan comes from "kai" (hand) and "kōl" (shuttle). The Kaikōlans believe that different parts of the loom represent various deities and sages. The thread is said to have originally come from the lotus stalk that rises from Vishnu’s navel. Several gods created the threads for the warp; Nārada became the woof, and Vēdamuni became the treadle. Brahma transformed into the plank (padamaram), and Adisēsha turned into the main rope.

In some places, the following sub-divisions of the caste are recognised:—Sōzhia; Rattu; Siru-tāli (small marriage badge); Peru-tāli (big marriage badge); Sirpādam, and Sevaghavritti. The women of the Siru and Peru-tāli divisions wear a small and large tāli respectively.

In some areas, the following sub-divisions of the caste are recognized:—Sōzhia; Rattu; Siru-tāli (small marriage badge); Peru-tāli (big marriage badge); Sirpādam, and Sevaghavritti. The women from the Siru and Peru-tāli divisions wear a small and large tāli respectively.

In religion, most of the Kaikōlans are Saivites, and some have taken to wearing the lingam, but a few are Vaishnavites.

In religion, most of the Kaikōlans are Saivites, and some wear the lingam, but a few are Vaishnavites.

The hereditary headman of the caste is called Peridanakāran or Pattakāran, and is, as a rule, assisted by two subordinates entitled Sengili or Grāmani, and Ūral. But, if the settlement is a large one, the headman may have as many as nine assistants.

The hereditary leader of the caste is called Peridanakāran or Pattakāran, and usually has two subordinates known as Sengili or Grāmani, and Ūral. However, in larger settlements, the leader may have up to nine assistants.

According to Mr. H. A. Stuart,21 “the Kaikōlans acknowledge the authority of a headman, or Mahānāttan, who resides at Conjeeveram, but itinerates among their villages, receiving presents, and settling caste disputes. Where his decision is not accepted without demur, he imposes upon the refractory weavers the expense of a [34]curious ceremony, in which the planting of a bamboo post takes part. From the top of this pole the Mahānāttan pronounces his decision, which must be acquiesced in on pain of excommunication.” From information gathered at Conjeeveram, I learn that there is attached to the Kaikōlans a class of mendicants called Nattukattāda Nāyanmar. The name means the Nāyanmar who do not plant, in reference to the fact that, when performing, they fix their bamboo pole to the gōpuram of a temple, instead of planting it in the ground. They are expected to travel about the country, and, if a caste dispute requires settlement, a council meeting is convened, at which they must be present as the representatives of the Mahānādu, a chief Kaikōlan head-quarters at Conjeeveram. If the dispute is a complicated one, the Nattukattāda Nāyanmar goes to all the Kaikōlan houses, and makes a red mark with laterite22 on the cloth in the loom, saying “Āndvarānai,” as signifying that it is done by order of the headman. The Kaikōlans may, after this, not go on with their work until the dispute is settled, for the trial of which a day is fixed. The Nattukattāda Nāyanmars set up on a gōpuram their pole, which should have seventy-two internodes, and measure at least as many feet. The number of internodes corresponds to that of the nādus into which the Kaikōlan community is divided. Kamātchiamma is worshipped, and the Nattukattāda Nāyanmars climb up the pole, and perform various feats. Finally, the principal actor balances a young child in a tray on a bamboo, and, letting go of the bamboo, catches the falling child. The origin of the performance is said to have been as follows. The demon Sūran was troubling the Dēvas and men, and was [35]advised by Karthikēya (Subramanya) and Vīrabāhu to desist from so doing. He paid no heed, and a fight ensued. The demon sent his son Vajrabāhu to meet the enemy, and he was slain by Vīrabāhu, who displayed the different parts of his body in the following manner. The vertebral column was made to represent a pole, round which the other bones were placed, and the guts tightly wound round them. The connective tissues were used as ropes to support the pole. The skull was used as a jaya-mani (conquest bell), and the skin hoisted as a flag. The trident of Vīrabāhu was fixed to the top of the pole, and, standing over it, he announced his victory over the world. The Nattukattāda Nāyanmars claim to be the descendants of Vīrabāhu. Their head-quarters are at Conjeeveram. They are regarded as slightly inferior to the Kaikōlans, with whom ordinarily they do not intermarry. The Kaikōlans have to pay them as alms a minimum fee of four annas per loom annually. Another class of mendicant, called Ponnambalaththar, which is said to have sprung up recently, poses as true caste beggars attached to the Kaikōlans, from whom, as they travel about the country, they solicit alms. Some Kaikōlans gave Ontipuli as the name of their caste beggars. The Ontipulis, however, are Nokkans attached to the Pallis.

According to Mr. H. A. Stuart,21 “the Kaikōlans recognize the authority of a headman, or Mahānāttan, who lives in Conjeeveram but travels among their villages, accepting gifts and resolving caste disputes. If his decision isn’t accepted without question, he makes the stubborn weavers participate in a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]unique ceremony involving the planting of a bamboo pole. From the top of this pole, the Mahānāttan announces his ruling, which must be accepted or the individual faces excommunication.” From what I've learned in Conjeeveram, there’s a group of mendicants linked to the Kaikōlans called Nattukattāda Nāyanmar. The name means the Nāyanmar who don't plant, referring to the fact that when they perform, they attach their bamboo pole to the gōpuram of a temple instead of planting it in the ground. They are expected to travel around, and if there’s a caste dispute that needs to be resolved, a council meeting is called where they must be present as representatives of the Mahānādu, a major Kaikōlan headquarters in Conjeeveram. If the dispute is complicated, the Nattukattāda Nāyanmar visit all the Kaikōlan homes and make a red mark with laterite22 on the cloth in the loom, saying “Āndvarānai,” indicating that it’s done by the headman's order. After this, the Kaikōlans cannot continue their work until the dispute is resolved, for which a day is set. The Nattukattāda Nāyanmars set their pole on a gōpuram, which should have seventy-two internodes and measure at least the same number in feet. The number of internodes corresponds to the number of nādus in the Kaikōlan community. They worship Kamātchiamma, and the Nattukattāda Nāyanmars climb the pole and perform various stunts. Finally, the main performer balances a young child in a tray on a bamboo and lets go of the bamboo, catching the falling child. The origins of the performance are said to come from the following story. The demon Sūran was troubling the Dēvas and humans, and was [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]advised by Karthikēya (Subramanya) and Vīrabāhu to stop. He ignored their advice, leading to a fight. The demon sent his son Vajrabāhu to confront the enemy, but he was killed by Vīrabāhu, who displayed the various parts of his body in this way: the spine represented a pole, with the other bones arranged around it and the intestines tightly wrapped around them. The connective tissues acted as ropes to support the pole. The skull served as a jaya-mani (victory bell), and the skin was raised as a flag. Vīrabāhu's trident was attached to the top of the pole, and standing over it, he declared his victory over the world. The Nattukattāda Nāyanmars claim to be descendants of Vīrabāhu. Their headquarters are in Conjeeveram. They are seen as slightly lower in status than the Kaikōlans and typically do not intermarry with them. The Kaikōlans are required to give them a minimum alms fee of four annas per loom each year. Another group of mendicants, known as Ponnambalaththar, is reportedly a recent development, pretending to be genuine caste beggars associated with the Kaikōlans, collecting alms as they travel. Some Kaikōlans refer to their caste beggars as Ontipuli. However, the Ontipulis are actually Nokkans related to the Pallis.

The Kaikōlan community is, as already indicated, divided into seventy-two nādus or dēsams, viz., forty-four mēl (western) and twenty-eight kīl (eastern) nādus. Intermarriages take place between members of seventy-one of these nādus. The great Tamil poet Ottaikūththar is said to have belonged to the Kaikōlan caste and to have sung the praises of all castes except his own. Being angry on this account, the Kaikōlans urged him to sing in praise of them. This he consented to do, [36]provided that he received 1,008 human heads. Seventy-one nādus sent the first-born sons for the sacrifice, but one nādu (Tirumarudhal) refused to send any. This refusal led to their isolation from the rest of the community. All the nādus are subject to the authority of four thisai nādus, and these in turn are controlled by the mahānādu at Conjeeveram, which is the residence of the patron deity Kamātchiamman. The thisai nādus are (1) Sīvapūram (Walajabad), east of Conjeeveram, where Kamātchiamman is said to have placed Nandi as a guard; (2) Thondipūram, where Thondi Vinayakar was stationed; (3) Virinjipūram to the west, guarded by Subramanya; (4) Sholingipūram to the south, watched over by Bairava. Each of the seventy-one nādus is sub-divided into kilai grāmams (branch villages), pērūr (big) and sithur (little) grāmams. In Tamil works relating to the Sengundar caste, Conjeeveram is said to be the mahānādu, and those belonging thereto are spoken of as the nineteen hundred, who are entitled to respect from other Kaikōlans. Another name for Kaikōlans of the mahānādu seems to be Āndavar; but in practice this name is confined to the headman of the mahānādu, and members of his family. They have the privilege of sitting at council meetings with their backs supported by pillows, and consequently bear the title Thindusarndān (resting on pillows). At present there are two sections of Kaikōlans at Conjeeveram, one living at Ayyampettai, and the other at Pillaipālayam. The former claim Ayyampettai as the mahānādu, and refuse to recognise Pillaipālayam, which is in the heart of Conjeeveram, as the mahānādu. Disputes arose, and recourse was had to the Vellore Court in 1904, where it was decided that Ayyampettai possesses no claim to be called the mahānādu. [37]

The Kaikōlan community is, as previously mentioned, divided into seventy-two nādus or dēsams, consisting of forty-four mēl (western) and twenty-eight kīl (eastern) nādus. Intermarriages occur between members of seventy-one of these nādus. The famous Tamil poet Ottaikūththar is thought to have belonged to the Kaikōlan caste and to have celebrated all castes except his own. Upset about this, the Kaikōlans urged him to praise them. He agreed to do so, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]on the condition that he received 1,008 human heads. Seventy-one nādus sent their first-born sons for the sacrifice, but one nādu (Tirumarudhal) refused to send anyone. This refusal led to their separation from the rest of the community. All the nādus are under the authority of four thisai nādus, which are in turn overseen by the mahānādu at Conjeeveram, the home of the patron deity Kamātchiamman. The thisai nādus are (1) Sīvapūram (Walajabad), east of Conjeeveram, where it is said Kamātchiamman placed Nandi as a guard; (2) Thondipūram, where Thondi Vinayakar was stationed; (3) Virinjipūram to the west, protected by Subramanya; (4) Sholingipūram to the south, watched over by Bairava. Each of the seventy-one nādus is further divided into kilai grāmams (branch villages), pērūr (big) and sithur (little) grāmams. In Tamil literature related to the Sengundar caste, Conjeeveram is referred to as the mahānādu, and its members are noted as the nineteen hundred, who are entitled to respect from other Kaikōlans. Another name for the Kaikōlans of the mahānādu seems to be Āndavar; however, in practice, this name is limited to the headman of the mahānādu and his family. They have the privilege of sitting at council meetings with their backs supported by pillows, earning them the title Thindusarndān (resting on pillows). Currently, there are two sections of Kaikōlans in Conjeeveram: one group lives in Ayyampettai and the other in Pillaipālayam. The former claims Ayyampettai as the mahānādu and does not recognize Pillaipālayam, located in the center of Conjeeveram, as the mahānādu. Disputes arose, leading to a case in the Vellore Court in 1904, where it was determined that Ayyampettai has no claim to the title of mahānādu. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Many Kaikōlan families have now abandoned their hereditary employment as weavers in favour of agriculture and trade, and some of the poorer members of the caste work as cart-drivers and coolies. At Coimbatore some hereditary weavers have become cart-drivers, and some cart-drivers have become weavers de necessité in the local jail.

Many Kaikōlan families have now left their traditional jobs as weavers to pursue agriculture and trade, and some of the less fortunate members of the caste work as cart drivers and manual laborers. In Coimbatore, some hereditary weavers have become cart drivers, and some cart drivers have taken up weaving out of necessity in the local jail.

In every Kaikōlan family, at least one girl should be set apart for, and dedicated to temple service. And the rule seems to be that, so long as this girl or her descendants, born to her or adopted, continue to live, another girl is not dedicated. But, when the line becomes extinct, another girl must be dedicated. All the Kaikōlans deny their connection with the Dēva-dāsi (dancing-girl) caste. But Kaikōlans freely take meals in Dāsi houses on ceremonial occasions, and it would not be difficult to cite cases of genuine Dāsis who have relationship with rich Kaikōlans.

In every Kaikōlan family, at least one girl should be chosen and dedicated to temple service. The rule appears to be that as long as this girl or her descendants, whether born to her or adopted, continue to live, another girl will not be dedicated. However, when that line becomes extinct, another girl must be dedicated. All the Kaikōlans deny any connection to the Dēva-dāsi (dancing-girl) caste. Yet, Kaikōlans freely eat meals in Dāsi homes during ceremonial occasions, and it wouldn't be hard to provide examples of genuine Dāsis who have relationships with wealthy Kaikōlans.

Kaikōlan girls are made Dāsis either by regular dedication to a temple, or by the headman tying the tāli (nāttu pottu). The latter method is at the present day adopted because it is considered a sin to dedicate a girl to the god after she has reached puberty, and because the securing of the requisite official certificate for a girl to become a Dāsi involves considerable trouble.

Kaikōlan girls become Dāsis either through regular dedication to a temple or by the headman tying the tāli (nāttu pottu). The second method is currently preferred because it's seen as a sin to dedicate a girl to the god after she has reached puberty, and getting the necessary official certificate for a girl to become a Dāsi involves a lot of hassle.

“It is said,” Mr. Stuart writes,23 “that, where the head of a house dies, leaving only female issue, one of the girls is made a Dāsi in order to allow of her working like a man at the loom, for no woman not dedicated in this manner may do so.”

“It is said,” Mr. Stuart writes,23 “that, when the head of a household dies, leaving behind only daughters, one of the girls is designated as a Dāsi so she can work like a man at the loom, because no woman who isn’t dedicated in this way is allowed to do so.”

Of the orthodox form of ceremonial in connection with a girl’s initiation as a Dāsi, the following account [38]was given by the Kaikōlans of Coimbatore. The girl is taught music and dancing. The dancing master or Nattuvan, belongs to the Kaikōlan caste, but she may be instructed in music by Brāhman Bhāgavathans. At the tāli-tying ceremony, which should take place after the girl has reached puberty, she is decorated with jewels, and made to stand on a heap of paddy (unhusked rice). A folded cloth is held before her by two Dāsis, who also stand on heaps of paddy. The girl catches hold of the cloth, and her dancing master, who is seated behind her, grasping her legs, moves them up and down in time with the music, which is played. In the course of the day, relations and friends are entertained, and, in the evening, the girl, seated astride a pony, is taken to the temple, where a new cloth for the idol, the tāli, and various articles required for doing pūja, have been got ready. The girl is seated facing the idol, and the officiating Brāhman gives sandal and flowers to her, and ties the tāli, which has been lying at the feet of the idol, round her neck. The tāli consists of a golden disc and black beads. Betel and flowers are then distributed among those present, and the girl is taken home through the principal streets. She continues to learn music and dancing, and eventually goes through a form of nuptial ceremony. The relations are invited for an auspicious day, and the maternal uncle, or his representative, ties a gold band on the girl’s forehead, and, carrying her, places her on a plank before the assembled guests. A Brāhman priest recites the mantrams, and prepares the sacred fire (hōmam). The uncle is presented with new cloths by the girl’s mother. For the actual nuptials a rich Brāhman, if possible, and, if not, a Brāhman of more lowly status is invited. A Brāhman is called in, as he is next in importance to, and the representative of [39]the idol. It is said that, when the man who is to receive her first favours, joins the girl, a sword must be placed, at least for a few minutes, by her side. When a Dāsi dies, her body is covered with a new cloth removed from the idol, and flowers are supplied from the temple, to which she belonged. No pūja is performed in the temple till the body is disposed of, as the idol, being her husband, has to observe pollution.

Of the traditional ceremony related to a girl's initiation as a Dāsi, the following account [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]was given by the Kaikōlans of Coimbatore. The girl is taught music and dancing. The dance instructor, or Nattuvan, belongs to the Kaikōlan caste, but she can learn music from Brāhman Bhāgavathans. At the tāli-tying ceremony, which takes place after the girl has reached puberty, she is adorned with jewelry and made to stand on a pile of paddy (unhusked rice). Two Dāsis hold a folded cloth in front of her while also standing on piles of paddy. The girl grabs the cloth, and her dance master, seated behind her, holds her legs and moves them up and down to the music being played. Throughout the day, relatives and friends are entertained, and in the evening, the girl, sitting on a pony, is taken to the temple, where new clothes for the idol, the tāli, and various items for pūja have been prepared. The girl sits facing the idol, and the officiating Brāhman presents her with sandalwood and flowers, then ties the tāli, which was resting at the idol's feet, around her neck. The tāli consists of a golden disc and black beads. Betel and flowers are distributed among the guests, and the girl is taken home through the main streets. She continues her music and dancing lessons and eventually participates in a form of wedding ceremony. The relatives are invited for a fortunate day, and the maternal uncle, or his delegate, ties a gold band on the girl's forehead, then carries her and places her on a plank before the gathered guests. A Brāhman priest recites the mantras and prepares the sacred fire (hōmam). The girl's mother presents new clothes to the uncle. For the actual wedding, a wealthy Brāhman is invited if possible; otherwise, a less affluent Brāhman will do. A Brāhman is called, as he holds significant importance alongside the representative of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the idol. It is said that when the man who will take her first favors joins her, a sword must be placed next to her for at least a few minutes. When a Dāsi passes away, her body is covered with a new cloth taken from the idol, and flowers are provided from the temple she served. No pūja is performed in the temple until the body is taken care of, as the idol, being her husband, must observe a period of pollution.

Writing a century ago (1807) concerning the Kaikōlan Dāsis, Buchanan says24 that “these dancing women, and their musicians, now form a separate kind of caste; and a certain number of them are attached to every temple of any consequence. The allowances which the musicians receive for their public duty is very small, yet, morning and evening, they are bound to attend at the temple to perform before the image. They must also receive every person travelling on account of the Government, meet him at some distance from the town, and conduct him to his quarters with music and dancing. All the handsome girls are instructed to dance and sing, and are all prostitutes, at least to the Brāhmans. In ordinary sets they are quite common; but, under the Company’s government, those attached to temples of extraordinary sanctity are reserved entirely for the use of the native officers, who are all Brāhmans, and who would turn out from the set any girl that profaned herself by communication with persons of low caste, or of no caste at all, such as Christians or Mussulmans. Indeed, almost every one of these girls that is tolerably sightly is taken by some officer of revenue for his own special use, and is seldom permitted to go to the temple, except in his presence. Most of these officers have [40]more than one wife, and the women of the Brāhmans are very beautiful; but the insipidity of their conduct, from a total want of education or accomplishment, makes the dancing women to be sought after by all natives with great avidity. The Mussulman officers in particular were exceedingly attached to this kind of company, and lavished away on these women a great part of their incomes. The women very much regret their loss, as the Mussulmans paid liberally, and the Brāhmans durst not presume to hinder any girl who chose, from amusing an Asoph, or any of his friends. The Brāhmans are not near so lavish of their money, especially where it is secured by the Company’s government, but trust to their authority for obtaining the favour of the dancers. To my taste, nothing can be more silly and unanimated than the dancing of the women, nor more harsh and barbarous than their music. Some Europeans, however, from long habit, I suppose, have taken a liking to it, and have even been captivated by the women. Most of them I have had an opportunity of seeing have been very ordinary in their looks, very inelegant in their dress, and very dirty in their persons; a large proportion of them have the itch, and a still larger proportion are most severely diseased.”

Writing a century ago (1807) about the Kaikōlan Dāsis, Buchanan says24 that “these dancing women and their musicians form a distinct caste, with a number of them assigned to every significant temple. The compensation the musicians receive for their public duties is minimal, yet they are required to be present at the temple every morning and evening to perform before the idol. They must also greet anyone traveling on behalf of the Government, meet them a distance away from the town, and escort them to their accommodations with music and dance. All the attractive girls are trained to dance and sing, and they are all considered prostitutes, at least to the Brāhmans. In regular settings, they are quite common; however, under the Company’s governance, those associated with temples of significant sanctity are reserved solely for the native officers, who are all Brāhmans, and these officers would dismiss any girl who tarnished herself by associating with people of low or no caste, such as Christians or Muslims. In fact, almost every girl who is somewhat attractive is taken by some revenue officer for his personal use and is rarely allowed to visit the temple unless he is there. Most of these officers have [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]more than one wife, and the Brāhman women are quite beautiful; however, their behavior, lacking in education or skills, makes the dancing women highly sought after by all natives. The Muslim officers, in particular, were very fond of this type of company and spent a significant part of their income on these women. The women often lament their loss, as the Muslims paid well, while the Brāhmans would not dare to stop any girl who wanted to entertain a Muslim officer or any of his friends. The Brāhmans are not nearly as generous with their money, especially when it is backed by the Company’s governance, but rely on their authority to win the favor of the dancers. For my taste, nothing seems more foolish and lifeless than the women’s dancing, nor more harsh and uncivilized than their music. Some Europeans, however, perhaps out of habit, have grown fond of it and have even become captivated by the women. Most of them I've seen have been quite plain in appearance, poorly dressed, and very unclean; a significant number have skin conditions, and an even larger number are seriously ill.”

Though the Kaikōlans are considered to belong to the left-hand faction, Dāsis, except those who are specially engaged by the Bēri Chettis and Kammālans, are placed in the right-hand faction. Kaikōlan Dāsis, when passing through a Kammālan street, stop dancing, and they will not salute Kammālans or Bēri Chettis.

Though the Kaikōlans are seen as part of the left-hand group, Dāsis, except for those specifically hired by the Bēri Chettis and Kammālans, are categorized in the right-hand group. When Kaikōlan Dāsis walk through a Kammālan street, they stop dancing and do not greet Kammālans or Bēri Chettis.

A peculiar method of selecting a bride, called siru tāli kattu (tying the small tāli), is said to be in vogue among some Kaikōlans. A man, who wishes to marry his maternal uncle’s or paternal aunt’s daughter, has to [41]tie a tāli, or simply a bit of cloth torn from her clothing, round her neck, and report the fact to his parents and the headman. If the girl eludes him, he cannot claim her, but, should he succeed, she belongs to him. In some places, the consent of the maternal uncle to a marriage is signified by his carrying the bride in his arms to the marriage pandal (booth). The milk-post is made of Erythrina indica. After the tāli has been tied, the bridegroom lifts the bride’s left leg, and places it on a grinding-stone. Widows are stated by Mr. Stuart to be “allowed to remarry if they have no issue, but not otherwise; and, if the prevalent idea that a Kaikōla woman is never barren be true, this must seldom take place.”

A unique way of choosing a bride, known as siru tāli kattu (tying the small tāli), is said to be practiced by some Kaikōlans. A man who wants to marry his maternal uncle’s or paternal aunt’s daughter must [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]tie a tāli, or simply a piece of cloth torn from her clothing, around her neck and inform his parents and the village leader. If the girl avoids him, he can’t claim her, but if he’s successful, she becomes his. In some areas, the consent of the maternal uncle for a marriage is shown by him carrying the bride in his arms to the marriage booth. The milk-post is made from Erythrina indica. After the tāli has been tied, the groom lifts the bride’s left leg and places it on a grinding stone. According to Mr. Stuart, widows are said to be “allowed to remarry if they have no children, but not otherwise; and if the common belief that a Kaikōla woman is never barren is true, this must rarely happen.”

On the final day of the death ceremonies, a small hut is erected, and inside it stones, brought by the barber, are set up, and offerings made to them.

On the last day of the funeral rites, a small hut is built, and inside, stones brought by the barber are arranged, with offerings made to them.

The following proverbs are current about or among the Kaikōlans:—

The following proverbs are commonly used about or among the Kaikōlans:—

Narrate stories in villages where there are no Kaikōlans.

Narrate stories in villages where there are no Kaikōlans.

Why should a weaver have a monkey?

Why would a weaver need a monkey?

This, it has been suggested,25 implies that a monkey would only damage the work.

This, it has been suggested, 25 implies that a monkey would only ruin the work.

On examining the various occupations, weaving will be found to be the best.

On looking at the different jobs, weaving stands out as the best.

A peep outside will cut out eight threads.

A quick look outside will save eight threads.

The person who was too lazy to weave went to the stars.

The person who was too lazy to weave went to the stars.

The Chetti (money-lender) decreases the money, and the weaver the thread.

The moneylender reduces the cash, and the weaver shortens the thread.

The titles of the Kaikōlans are Mūdali and Nāyanar.

The titles of the Kaikōlans are Mūdali and Nāyanar.

[42]

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Among the Kaikōlan musicians, I have seen every gradation of colour and type, from leptorhine men with fair skin and chiselled features, to men very dark and platyrhine, with nasal index exceeding 90.

Among the Kaikōlan musicians, I've seen every variation of color and type, from slender-faced men with light skin and defined features to very dark-skinned men with broad faces, having a nasal index over 90.

The Kaikōlans take part in the annual festival at Tirupati in honour of the goddess Gangamma. “It is,” Mr. Stuart writes,26 “distinguished from the majority of similar festivals by a custom, which requires the people to appear in a different disguise (vēsham) every morning and evening. The Mātangi vēsham of Sunday morning deserves special mention. The devotee who consents to undergo this ceremony dances in front of an image or representation of the goddess, and, when he is worked up to the proper pitch of frenzy, a metal wire is passed through the middle of his tongue. It is believed that this operation causes no pain, or even bleeding, and the only remedy adopted is the chewing of a few margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, and some kunkumam (red powder) of the goddess. This vēsham is undertaken only by a Kaikōlan (weaver), and is performed only in two places—the house of a certain Brāhman and the Mahant’s math. The concluding disguise is that known as the pērantālu vēsham. Pērantālu signifies the deceased married women of a family who have died before their husbands, or, more particularly, the most distinguished of such women. This vēsham is accordingly represented by a Kaikōlan disguised as a female, who rides round the town on a horse, and distributes to the respectable inhabitants of the place the kunkumam, saffron paste, and flowers of the goddess.”

The Kaikōlans participate in the annual festival at Tirupati to honor the goddess Gangamma. “It is,” Mr. Stuart writes,26 “set apart from most similar festivals by a unique custom that requires participants to dress in a different disguise (vēsham) every morning and evening. The Mātangi vēsham of Sunday morning is particularly noteworthy. The devotee who chooses to go through this ceremony dances in front of an image or representation of the goddess, and when they reach a certain level of intensity, a metal wire is passed through the center of their tongue. It’s believed that this process causes no pain or even bleeding, with the only remedy being the chewing of a few margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves and some kunkumam (red powder) from the goddess. This vēsham is performed only by a Kaikōlan (weaver) and is done in two locations—the house of a specific Brāhman and the Mahant’s math. The final disguise is known as the pērantālu vēsham. Pērantālu refers to the deceased married women of a family who have passed away before their husbands, or more specifically, the most esteemed among them. This vēsham is enacted by a Kaikōlan dressed as a female, who rides around town on a horse, handing out kunkumam, saffron paste, and flowers from the goddess to the respectable residents of the area.”

For the following account of a ceremony, which took place at Conjeeveram in August, 1908, I am indebted [43]to the Rev. J. H. Maclean. “On a small and very lightly built car, about eight feet high, and running on four little wheels, an image of Kāli was placed. It was then dragged by about thirty men, attached to it by cords passed through the flesh of their backs. I saw one of the young men two days later. Two cords had been drawn through his flesh, about twelve inches apart. The wounds were covered over with white stuff, said to be vibūthi (sacred ashes). The festival was organised by a class of weavers calling themselves Sankunram (Sengundar) Mudaliars, the inhabitants of seven streets in the part of Conjeeveram known as Pillaipalyam. The total amount spent is said to have been Rs. 500. The people were far from clear in their account of the meaning of the ceremony. One said it was a preventive of small-pox, but this view did not receive general support. Most said it was simply an old custom: what good it did they could not say. Thirty years had elapsed since the last festival. One man said that Kāli had given no commands on the subject, and that it was simply a device to make money circulate. The festival is called Pūntēr (flower car).”

For the following account of a ceremony that took place in Conjeeveram in August 1908, I am indebted [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] to Rev. J. H. Maclean. “On a small and very lightly built cart, about eight feet high, rolling on four tiny wheels, an image of Kāli was placed. It was then pulled by about thirty men, who were connected to it by cords that had been passed through their skin. I saw one of the young men two days later. Two cords had been pulled through his flesh, about twelve inches apart. The wounds were covered with a white substance, said to be vibūthi (sacred ashes). The festival was organized by a group of weavers who referred to themselves as Sankunram (Sengundar) Mudaliars, living in seven streets in the area of Conjeeveram known as Pillaipalyam. The total amount spent is said to have been Rs. 500. The people were not very clear about the meaning of the ceremony. One mentioned it was a way to prevent small-pox, but that view did not get much support. Most said it was just an old tradition: any benefits it provided were unclear. Thirty years had passed since the last festival. One man stated that Kāli had given no instructions regarding it, and that it was merely a way to circulate money. The festival is called Pūntēr (flower car).”

In September, 1908, an official notification was issued in the Fort St. George Gazette to the following effect. “Whereas it appears that hook-swinging, dragging of cars by men harnessed to them by hooks which pierce their sides, and similar acts are performed during the Mariyamman festival at Samayapuram and other places in the Trichinopoly division, Trichinopoly district, and whereas such acts are dangerous to human life, the Governor in Council is pleased, under section 144, sub-section (5), of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1898, to direct that the order of the Sub-divisional Magistrate, dated the 7th August, 1908, prohibiting such acts, shall remain in force until further orders.” [44]

In September 1908, an official announcement was published in the Fort St. George Gazette stating the following: "Since it has come to our attention that activities such as hook-swinging and dragging cars by men attached to them with hooks that pierce their sides, among other similar acts, are taking place during the Mariyamman festival at Samayapuram and elsewhere in the Trichinopoly division of the Trichinopoly district, and given that these actions pose a risk to human life, the Governor in Council, under section 144, sub-section (5), of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1898, has decided to uphold the order of the Sub-divisional Magistrate dated August 7, 1908, that prohibits these actions until further notice." [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

It is noted by Mr. F. R. Hemingway27 that, at Ratnagiri, in the Trichinopoly district, the Kaikōlans, in performance of a vow, thrust a spear through the muscles of the abdomen in honour of their god Sāhānayanar.

It is noted by Mr. F. R. Hemingway27 that, at Ratnagiri, in the Trichinopoly district, the Kaikōlans, in fulfillment of a vow, stab a spear through their abdominal muscles in honor of their god Sāhānayanar.

Kaila (measuring grain in the threshing-floor).—An exogamous sept of Māla.

Kaila (measuring grain on the threshing floor).—An exogamous group of Māla.

Kaimal.—A title of Nāyars, derived from kai, hand, signifying power.

Kaimal.—A title for Nāyars, coming from the word kai, meaning hand, signifying power.

Kaipūda.—A sub-division of Holeya.

Kaipūda.—A section of Holeya.

Kaivarta.—A sub-division of Kevuto.

Kaivarta.—A subset of Kevuto.

Kāka (crow).—The legend relating to the Kāka people is narrated in the article on Koyis. The equivalent Kākī occurs as a sept of Mālas, and Kāko as a sept of Kondras.

Kāka (crow).—The story about the Kāka people is described in the article on Koyis. The equivalent Kākī appears as a subgroup of Mālas, and Kāko as a subgroup of Kondras.

Kākara or Kākarla (Momordica Charantia).—An exogamous sept of Kamma and Mūka Dora.

Kākara or Kākarla (Momordica Charantia).—A group within the Kamma and Mūka Dora communities that practices exogamy.

Kākirekka-vāndlu (crows’ feather people).—Mendicants who beg from Mutrāchas, and derive their name from the fact that, when begging, they tie round their waists strings on which crows’, paddy birds’ (heron) feathers, etc., are tied.

Kākirekka-vāndlu (crows’ feather people).—Beggers who ask for alms from Mutrāchas, and their name comes from the fact that, while begging, they tie strings around their waists with crows’, paddy birds’ (heron) feathers, and similar items attached.

Kakka Kuravan.—A division of Kuravas of Travancore.

Kakka Kuravan.—A group of Kuravas in Travancore.

Kakkalan.—The Kakkalans or Kakkans are a vagrant tribe met with in north and central Travancore, who are identical with the Kakka Kuravans of south Travancore. There are among them four endogamous divisions called Kavitiyan, Manipparayan, Meluttan, and Chattaparayan, of which the two first are the most important. The Kavitiyans are further sub-divided into Kollak Kavitiyan residing in central Travancore, [45]Malayālam Kavitiyan, and Pāndi Kavitiyan or immigrants from the Pāndyan country.

Kakkalan.—The Kakkalans or Kakkans are a nomadic group found in northern and central Travancore, who are the same as the Kakka Kuravans of southern Travancore. They have four endogamous divisions named Kavitiyan, Manipparayan, Meluttan, and Chattaparayan, with the first two being the most significant. The Kavitiyans are further divided into Kollak Kavitiyan, who live in central Travancore, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Malayālam Kavitiyan, and Pāndi Kavitiyan, who are immigrants from the Pāndyan region.

The Kakkalans have a legend concerning their origin to the effect that Siva was once going about begging as a Kapaladhārin, and arrived at a Brāhman street, from which the inhabitants drove him away. The offended god immediately reduced the village to ashes, and the guilty villagers begged his pardon, but were reduced to the position of the Kakkalans, and made to earn their livelihood by begging.

The Kakkalans have a legend about their origin that says Siva was once wandering around begging as a Kapaladhārin and came to a Brahmin street, where the locals drove him away. Angered, the god instantly turned the village to ashes, and the villagers, realizing their mistake, asked for his forgiveness. However, they were then turned into Kakkalans, destined to survive by begging.

The women wear iron and silver bangles, and a palunka māla or necklace of variously coloured beads. They are tattooed, and tattooing members of other castes is one of their occupations, which include the following:—

The women wear iron and silver bangles, along with a palunka māla or a necklace made of colorful beads. They have tattoos, and tattooing members of other castes is one of their jobs, which include the following:—

Katukuttu, or boring the lobes of the ears.

Katukuttu, or piercing the lobes of the ears.

Katuvaippu, or plastic operations on the ear, which Nāyar women and others who wear heavy pendant ear ornaments often require.

Katuvaippu, or plastic surgery on the ear, is often needed by Nāyar women and others who wear heavy dangling ear ornaments.

Kainokku or palmistry, in which the women are more proficient than the men.

Kainokku, or palmistry, where women are more skilled than men.

Kompuvaippu, or placing the twig of a plant on any swelling of the body, and dissipating it by blowing on it.

Kompuvaippu, or putting a twig from a plant on any swelling of the body and blowing on it to make it go away.

Taiyyal, or tailoring.

Tailoring.

Pāmpātam or snake dance, in which the Kakkalans are unrivalled.

Pāmpātam, or snake dance, is an area where the Kakkalans excel.

Fortune telling.

Fortune telling.

The chief object of worship by the Kakkalans is the rising sun, to which boiled rice is offered on Sunday. They have no temples of their own, but stand at some distance from Hindu temples, and worship the gods thereof. Though leading a wandering life, they try to be at home for the Malabar new year, on which occasion they wear new clothes, and hold a feast. They do not observe the national Ōnam and Vishu festivals. [46]

The main thing the Kakkalans worship is the rising sun, to which they offer boiled rice on Sundays. They don’t have their own temples but stand a bit away from Hindu temples to worship those gods. Although they lead a nomadic lifestyle, they make an effort to be home for the Malabar New Year, when they wear new clothes and have a feast. They don't celebrate the national Ōnam and Vishu festivals. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Kakkalans are conspicuously polygamous, and some have as many as twelve wives, who are easily supported, as they earn money by their professional engagements. A first marriage must be celebrated on Sunday, and the festivities last from Saturday to Monday. Subsequent marriages may also be celebrated on Thursday. On the night of the day before the wedding, a brother, or other near relation of the bridegroom, places the sambandham (alliance) by bringing a fanam (coin), material for chewing, and cooked rice to the marriage pandal (booth). Fruit and other things are flung at him by the bride’s people. On the following day the bridegroom arrives at the pandal, and, after raising the tāli (marriage badge) three times towards heaven, and, invoking a blessing from on high, ties it round the bride’s neck. When a girl reaches puberty, a merry celebration is kept up for a week. The dead are buried. Inheritance is from father to son. A childless widow is a coparcener with the brothers of the deceased, and forfeits this right if she remarries.

The Kakkalans are definitely polygamous, with some having as many as twelve wives, who are easily supported since they earn money through their jobs. A first marriage must take place on Sunday, and the celebrations go from Saturday to Monday. Additional marriages can also happen on Thursday. On the night before the wedding, a brother or close relative of the groom brings a fanam (coin), chewing materials, and cooked rice to the marriage pavilion (booth) to establish the sambandham (alliance). The bride’s family throws fruit and other items at him. The next day, the groom shows up at the pavilion and, after raising the tāli (marriage badge) three times towards the sky and invoking a blessing from above, he ties it around the bride’s neck. When a girl hits puberty, there’s a joyful celebration that lasts for a week. The deceased are buried. Inheritance is passed from father to son. A childless widow shares in the inheritance with her late husband’s brothers but loses this right if she remarries.

Though in the presence of other castes the Kakkalans speak Malayālam, they have a peculiar language which is used among themselves, and is not understood by others.28

Though the Kakkalans speak Malayālam in front of other castes, they have a unique language they use among themselves that others do not understand.28

Kakkē (Indian laburnum: Cassia fistula).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kakkē (Indian laburnum: Cassia fistula).—A clan of Kurni.

Kala.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kala.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kalaikūttādi (pole-dancer).—A Tamil synonym of Dommara.

Kalaikūttādi (pole dancer).—A Tamil synonym for Dommara.

Kalāl.—A Hindustani synonym of Gamalla. [47]

Kalāl.—A Hindustani term for Gamalla. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kalamkotti (potter).—An occupational title of Nāyar.

Kalamkotti (potter).—A job title for Nāyar.

Kalāsi.—A name given to Vāda fishermen by Oriya people.

Kalāsi.—A name used by the Oriya people for Vāda fishermen.

Kālava (channel or ditch).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sālē.

Kālava (channel or ditch).—A group that marries outside their clan from Padma Sālē.

Kalavant.—The Kalavants are dancers and singers, who, like other dancing-girls, are courtesans. The name occurs not only in South Canara, but also in the Telugu country.

Kalavant.—The Kalavants are dancers and singers who, like other dancing girls, are courtesans. The name is found not just in South Canara but also in the Telugu region.

Kalinga.—A sub-division of Kōmatis, who “were formerly the inhabitants of the ancient Kalinga country. They are considered inferior to the other sub-divisions, on account of their eating flesh. Their titles are Subaddhi, Pātro, and Chaudari.”29 In the Ganjam Manual, they are described as “traders and shopkeepers, principally prevalent in the Chicacole division. The name Kling or Kaling is applied, in the Malay countries, including the Straits Settlements, to the people of peninsular India, who trade thither, or are settled in those regions.” It is recorded by Dr. N. Annandale that the phrase Orang Kling Islam (i.e., a Muhammadan from the Madras coast) occurs in Patani Malay.

Kalinga.—A subgroup of Kōmatis, who “formerly lived in the ancient Kalinga region. They are viewed as lesser compared to other subgroups because they eat meat. Their titles are Subaddhi, Pātro, and Chaudari.”29 In the Ganjam Manual, they are described as “traders and shopkeepers, mainly found in the Chicacole area. The name Kling or Kaling is used in the Malay countries, including the Straits Settlements, to refer to people from peninsular India who trade there or have settled in those areas.” Dr. N. Annandale notes that the term Orang Kling Islam (i.e., a Muslim from the Madras coast) appears in Patani Malay.

Kālingi and Kālinji.—There has been some confusion, in recorded accounts, between these two classes. In the Ganjam Manual, the Kālinjis are described as agriculturists in that district, and, in the Vizagapatam Manual, the Kālingas or Kālingulu are stated to be cultivators in the Vizagapatam district, and a caste of Paiks or fighting men in Jeypore. In the Census Report, 1891, the Kālingis are said to be “most numerous in Ganjam, but there is a considerable number of [48]them in Vizagapatam also. The word means a native of Kālinga, the name of the sea-board of the Telugu country; the word Telugu itself is supposed by Dr. Caldwell to be a corruption of Tri-Kalinga. The three large sub-divisions of the caste are Buragam, Kintala, and Odiya. In the Kintala sub-division, a widow may remarry if she has no male issue, but the remarriage of widows is not allowed in other sub-divisions. The use of flesh and alcoholic liquor is permitted. Naidu and Chaudari are their titles.” Further, in the Census Report, 1901, the Kālingis are described as follows: “A caste of temple priests and cultivators, found mainly in Ganjam and Vizagapatam, whither they are supposed to have been brought by the Kalinga kings to do service in the Hindu temples, before the advent of the Brāhmans. They speak either Oriya or Telugu. They have two sub-divisions, the Kintali Kālingas, who live south of the Langulya river, and the Buragam Kālingis, who reside to the north of it, and the customs of the two differ a great deal. There is also a third section, called Pandiri or Bevarani, which is composed of outcastes from the other two. Except the Kālingis of Mokhalingam in Vizagapatam,30 they have headmen called Nayakabalis or Sāntos. They also have priests called Kularazus, each of whom sees to the spiritual needs of a definite group of villages. They are divided into several exogamous gōtras, each comprising a number of families or vamsas, some of which, such as Arudra, a lady-bird, and Revi-chettu, the Ficus religiosa tree, are of totemistic origin. Each section is said to worship its totem. Marriage before puberty is the rule, and the caste is remarkable for the proportion of its girls under twelve years of age who are married or widowed. [49]Widow marriage is not recognised by the Buragam Kālingis, but the Kintalis freely allow it. As usual, the ceremonies at the wedding of a widow differ from those at the marriage of a maid. Some turmeric paste is placed on a new cloth, which is then put over a pot of water, and the ceremony takes place near this. The binding portion of it is the tying of a saffron-coloured string to the woman’s wrist. The Kālingis pay special reverence to Sri Radha Krishna and Chaitanya. Some of the caste officiate in temples, wear the sacred thread, and call themselves Brāhmans, but they are not received on terms of equality by other Brāhmans. All Kālingis bury their dead, but srāddhas (memorial services) are performed only by the Kintali sub-division. The Buragam Kālingis do not shave their heads in front. Kālingi women wear heavy bangles of brass, silver bell-metal and glass, extending from the wrist to the elbow. The titles of the castes are Naidu, Nayarlu, Chowdari, Bissōyi, Podhāno, Jenna, Swayi, and Naiko.”

Kālingi and Kālinji.—There has been some confusion in recorded accounts between these two groups. In the Ganjam Manual, the Kālinjis are described as farmers in that area, while in the Vizagapatam Manual, the Kālingas or Kālingulu are identified as cultivators in the Vizagapatam district and a caste of Paiks or warriors in Jeypore. In the Census Report of 1891, it states that the Kālingis are “most numerous in Ganjam, but there is a considerable number of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]them in Vizagapatam as well. The term means a native of Kālinga, the name for the coastal region of the Telugu country; the word Telugu is thought by Dr. Caldwell to be a variation of Tri-Kalinga. The three major sub-divisions of the caste are Buragam, Kintala, and Odiya. In the Kintala sub-division, a widow can remarry if she has no male children, but remarriage for widows is not allowed in the other sub-divisions. The consumption of meat and alcohol is permitted. Naidu and Chaudari are their titles.” Furthermore, in the Census Report of 1901, the Kālingis are described as: “A caste of temple priests and farmers, mainly found in Ganjam and Vizagapatam, where it is believed they were brought by the Kalinga kings to serve in Hindu temples before the arrival of the Brāhmans. They speak either Oriya or Telugu. They have two sub-divisions: the Kintali Kālingas, who live south of the Langulya river, and the Buragam Kālingis, who live to the north, with differing customs. There is also a third group called Pandiri or Bevarani, which consists of outcastes from the other two. Except for the Kālingis of Mokhalingam in Vizagapatam,30 they have leaders known as Nayakabalis or Sāntos. They also have priests called Kularazus, each responsible for the spiritual needs of a specific set of villages. They are divided into several exogamous gōtras, which comprise numerous families or vamsas, some of which, like Arudra (a ladybird) and Revi-chettu (the Ficus religiosa tree), have totemic origins. Each section is said to worship its totem. Marriages typically occur before puberty, and the caste is notable for the high percentage of girls under twelve who are married or widowed. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Widow remarriage is not accepted by the Buragam Kālingis, but the Kintalis allow it freely. As usual, the wedding ceremonies for widows differ from those for maidens. Some turmeric paste is applied to a new cloth, which is then placed over a pot of water, and the ceremony occurs near this setup. The main part involves tying a saffron-colored string to the woman’s wrist. The Kālingis show special devotion to Sri Radha Krishna and Chaitanya. Some members of the caste serve in temples, wear the sacred thread, and identify as Brāhmans, but they are not treated as equals by other Brāhmans. All Kālingis bury their deceased, but srāddhas (memorial services) are only performed by the Kintali sub-division. The Buragam Kālingis do not shave their heads in the front. Kālingi women wear heavy bangles made of brass, silver bell-metal, and glass, stretching from the wrist to the elbow. The titles of the castes include Naidu, Nayarlu, Chowdari, Bissōyi, Podhāno, Jenna, Swayi, and Naiko.”

In the foregoing account, the Oriya-speaking Kālinjis, and Telugu-speaking Kālingis, are both referred to. The confusion seems to have arisen from the fact that the Kālinjis are sometimes called Kālingis by other castes. The Kālingis are essentially Telugus, and are found mainly on the borderland between the districts of Ganjam and Vizagapatam. The Kālinjis are, on the other hand, Oriyas, and seem to be closely allied to the agricultural castes, Doluva, Alia, Bosantiya, etc., like which they are mainly agriculturists. The Kālinjis can be easily distinguished from the Kālingis, as the latter wear the sacred thread. The following story is told in connection with the origin of the Kālinji caste. A band of robbers was once upon a time staying in a fort near Bhattu Kunnarade, and [50]molesting the people, who invited the king of Puri to come and drive the robbers away. Among the warriors who were recruited for this purpose, was a member of the Khondaito caste, who, with the permission of the king, succeeded in expelling the robbers. He was named by the people Bodo-Kālinja, or one having a stout heart. He and his followers remained in the Ganjam country, and the Kālinjis are their descendants. The caste is widespread in the northern part thereof.

In the account above, both the Oriya-speaking Kālinjis and Telugu-speaking Kālingis are mentioned. The confusion appears to stem from the fact that the Kālinjis are sometimes referred to as Kālingis by other castes. The Kālingis are primarily Telugus, mainly found in the border area between the Ganjam and Vizagapatam districts. The Kālinjis, on the other hand, are Oriyas and seem to be closely related to agricultural castes such as Doluva, Alia, Bosantiya, etc., similar to which they primarily engage in farming. The Kālinjis can be easily identified from the Kālingis, as the latter wear the sacred thread. The following story explains the origin of the Kālinji caste. Once, a group of robbers took shelter in a fort near Bhattu Kunnarade, causing trouble for the locals, who then called upon the king of Puri to drive them out. Among the warriors assembled for this mission was a member of the Khondaito caste, who, with the king's permission, successfully expelled the robbers. The people named him Bodo-Kālinja, meaning "one with a stout heart." He and his followers settled in the Ganjam area, and the Kālinjis are their descendants. The caste is widespread in the northern part of that region.

There do not seem to be any sub-divisions among the Kālinjis, but there is a small endogamous group, called Mohiri Kālinji. Mohiri is a well-known division in Ganjam, and Kālinjis who dwell therein intermarry with others, and do not form a separate community. It has been suggested that the Mohiri Kālinjis are Telugu Kālingis, who have settled in the Oriya country. Like other Oriya castes, the Kālinjis have gōtras, e.g., bāno (sun), sukro (star), sanko (conch-shell), bhāgo (tiger) and nāgo (cobra). There is a good deal of confusion regarding the gōtras in their connection with marriage. The same gōtra, e.g., sukro, is exogamous in some places, and not so in others. Many titles occur among the Kālinjis, e.g., Borado, Bissoyi, Bariko, Bēhara, Dolei, Gaudo, Jenna, Moliko, Naiko, Pātro, Podhāno, Pulleyi, Rāvuto, Sānto, Sāvu, Swayi, Guru. In some places, the titles are taken as representing bamsams (or vamsams), and, as such, are exogamous. Families as a rule refrain from marrying into families bearing the same title. For example, a Dolei man will not marry a Dolei girl, especially if their gōtras are the same. But a Dolei may marry a Pullei, even if they have the same gōtra.

There don't seem to be any subdivisions among the Kālinjis, but there is a small endogamous group called Mohiri Kālinji. Mohiri is a well-known division in Ganjam, and Kālinjis living there intermarry with others and do not form a separate community. It's been suggested that the Mohiri Kālinjis are Telugu Kālingis who have settled in the Oriya region. Like other Oriya castes, the Kālinjis have gōtras, such as bāno (sun), sukro (star), sanko (conch-shell), bhāgo (tiger), and nāgo (cobra). There is a lot of confusion regarding the gōtras in relation to marriage. The same gōtra, like sukro, is exogamous in some places but not in others. Many titles are found among the Kālinjis, such as Borado, Bissoyi, Bariko, Bēhara, Dolei, Gaudo, Jenna, Moliko, Naiko, Pātro, Podhāno, Pulleyi, Rāvuto, Sānto, Sāvu, Swayi, and Guru. In some areas, the titles are seen as representing bamsams (or vamsams) and, as such, are exogamous. Families generally avoid marrying into families with the same title. For example, a Dolei man will not marry a Dolei girl, especially if their gōtras are the same. However, a Dolei can marry a Pullei, even if they have the same gōtra.

The headman of the Kālinjis is styled Sānto, and he is assisted by a Pātro. There is also a caste messenger, [51]called Bhollobhaya. For the whole community there are said to be four Sāntos and four Pātros, residing at Attagada, Chinna Kimedi, Pedda Kimedi, and Mohiri. A man who is suffering from a wound or sore infested by maggots is said to be excommunicated, and, when he has recovered, to submit himself before the caste-council before he is received back into the community.

The leader of the Kālinjis is called Sānto, and he is supported by a Pātro. There's also a caste messenger, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]known as Bhollobhaya. The entire community reportedly has four Sāntos and four Pātros, living in Attagada, Chinna Kimedi, Pedda Kimedi, and Mohiri. A man with a wound or sore that has maggots is considered excommunicated, and once he has healed, he must present himself before the caste council to be accepted back into the community.

Girls are generally married before puberty, and, if a real husband is not forthcoming, a maid goes through a mock marriage ceremony with her elder sister’s husband, or some elder of the community. A bachelor must be married to the sādo (Streblus asper) tree before he can marry a widow. The remarriage of widows (thuvathuvvi) is freely allowed. A widow, who has a brother-in-law, may not marry anyone else, until she has obtained a deed of separation (tsado pātro) from him. The marriage ceremonies conform to the standard Oriya type. In some places, the little fingers of the contracting couple are linked, instead of their hands being tied together with thread. On the fourth day, a Bhondāri (barber) places on the marriage dais some beaten rice and sugar-candy, which the bride and bridegroom sell to relations for money and grain. The proceeds of the sale are the perquisite of the Bhondāri. On the seventh day, the bridegroom breaks a pot on the dais, and, as he and the bride go away, the brother of the latter throws brinjal (Solanum Melongena) fruits at him.

Girls usually get married before they hit puberty, and if a real husband isn’t available, a maid participates in a mock wedding with her older sister’s husband or another community elder. A bachelor has to marry the sādo (Streblus asper) tree before he can marry a widow. Widows (thuvathuvvi) are allowed to remarry without any restrictions. If a widow has a brother-in-law, she can’t marry anyone else until she gets a separation deed (tsado pātro) from him. The marriage ceremonies follow the traditional Oriya style. In some areas, the little fingers of the couple are linked instead of tying their hands together with thread. On the fourth day, a Bhondāri (barber) puts some beaten rice and sugar-candy on the wedding dais, which the bride and groom sell to relatives for money and grain. The earnings from the sale go to the Bhondāri. On the seventh day, the groom breaks a pot on the dais, and as he and the bride leave, her brother throws brinjal (Solanum Melongena) fruits at him.

The dead are as a rule cremated. On the day after death, food, made bitter by the addition of margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, is offered. A piece of bone is carried away from the burning-ground, and buried under a pīpal (Ficus religiosa) tree. Daily, until the tenth day, water is poured seven times over the spot [52]where the bone is buried. On the tenth day, if the deceased was an elder of the community, the jola-jola handi ceremony is performed with a pot riddled with holes. (See Bhondāri.)

The dead are typically cremated. The day after someone dies, food, made bitter by adding margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, is offered. A piece of bone is taken from the cremation site and buried under a pīpal (Ficus religiosa) tree. Every day, until the tenth day, water is poured seven times over the spot [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] where the bone is buried. On the tenth day, if the deceased was a community elder, the jola-jola handi ceremony is performed with a pot that has holes in it. (See Bhondāri.)

Kalkatta.—An occupation name for stone-masons in South Canara.

Kalkatta.—A job title for stone masons in South Canara.

Kalkatti.—Kalkatti, denoting, it has been suggested, those who wear glass beads, is a sub-division of Idaiyan. The Lingāyats among Badagas of the Nīlgiri hills are called Kalkatti, because they hang a stone (the lingam) from their necks in a casket. Some Irulas of the same hills are also said to go by the name Kalkatti.

Kalkatti.—Kalkatti, which is believed to refer to those who wear glass beads, is a subgroup of Idaiyan. The Lingāyats among the Badagas of the Nīlgiri hills are called Kalkatti because they hang a stone (the lingam) from their necks in a small box. Some Irulas from the same hills are also said to be known as Kalkatti.

Kalla.—Recorded as a sub-division of Shānān, and of Idaiyans in localities where Kallans are most numerous.

Kalla.—Documented as a sub-division of Shānān, and of Idaiyans in areas where Kallans are most common.

Kallādi.—The title of a Cheruman who performs important duties, and becomes possessed by the spirit of the deceased, at a Cheruman funeral.

Kallādi.—The title given to a Cheruman who carries out significant responsibilities and becomes influenced by the spirit of the deceased during a Cheruman funeral.

Kallādi Māngan.—A synonym of Mondi.

Kallādi Māngan.—A synonym for Mondi.

Kalladi Siddhan.—The name, meaning a beggar who beats himself with a stone, of a class of Telugu mendicants, who are very clamorous and persistent in their demands for alms. The name is applied as a term of contempt for any obstinate and troublesome individual. These beggars carry with them a gourd, have tortoise and cowry shells tied on their elbows, and carry an iron rod, with which they beat an iron ring worn on the hand. They present a very revolting spectacle, as they smear their bodies with rice done up so as to resemble vomit, and with the juice of the prickly-pear (Opuntia Dillenii), to make people believe that it is blood oozing from cuts made with a knife. They are said to be very fond of eating crows, which they catch with nets. (See Mondi.) [53]

Kalladi Siddhan.—The name, which means a beggar who hits himself with a stone, refers to a group of Telugu beggars who are loud and persistent in asking for alms. This term is also used derogatorily to describe any stubborn and troublesome person. These beggars carry a gourd, have tortoise and cowrie shells tied to their elbows, and wield an iron rod, with which they strike an iron ring worn on their hand. They create a quite disturbing sight, as they smear their bodies with rice arranged to look like vomit, and with the juice of the prickly pear (Opuntia Dillenii), to make it seem like blood is seeping from cuts they have made. It is said they enjoy eating crows, which they catch using nets. (See Mondi.) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kallamu (threshing-floor).—An exogamous sept of Panta Reddi.

Kallamu (threshing-floor).—A group that marries outside their clan of Panta Reddi.

Kallan.—Of the Kallans of the Madura district in the early part of the last century, an excellent account was written by Mr. T. Turnbull (1817), from which the following extract has been taken. “The Cullaries are said to be in general a brave people, expert in the use of the lance and in throwing the curved stick called vullaree taddee. This weapon is invariably in use among the generality of this tribe; it is about 30 inches in curvature. The word Cullar is used to express a thief of any caste, sect or country, but it will be necessary to trace their progress to that characteristic distinction by which this race is designated both a thief, and an inhabitant of a certain Naud, which was not altogether exempted from paying tribute to the sovereign of Madura. This race appears to have become hereditary occupiers, and appropriated to themselves various Nauds in different parts of the southern countries; in each of these territories they have a chief among them, whose orders and directions they all must obey. They still possess one common character, and in general are such thieves that the name is very justly applied to them, for they seldom allow any merchandize to pass through their hands without extorting something from the owners, if they do not rob them altogether, and in fact travellers, pilgrims, and Brāhmans are attacked and stript of everything they possess, and they even make no scruple to kill any caste of people, save only the latter. In case a Brāhman happens to be killed in their attempt to plunder, when the fact is made known to the chief, severe corporal punishment is inflicted on the criminals and fines levied, besides exclusion from society for a period of six months. The Maloor Vellaloor and [54]Serrugoody Nauds are denominated the Keelnaud, whose inhabitants of the Cullar race are designated by the appellation of Amblacaurs.

Kallan.—An excellent account of the Kallans from the Madura district in the early part of the last century was written by Mr. T. Turnbull (1817), from which the following excerpt has been taken. “The Cullaries are generally known to be brave people, skilled in using the lance and throwing a curved stick known as vullaree taddee. This weapon is commonly used among most of this tribe; it has about a 30-inch curve. The word Cullar is used to refer to a thief of any caste, sect, or country, but it’s important to trace how they earned this specific reputation as both thieves and residents of a particular Naud, which was not entirely free from paying tribute to the ruler of Madura. This group seems to have become hereditary occupants and has claimed various Nauds in different areas of the southern regions; in each of these territories, they have a chief whose orders everyone must follow. They all share a common character, and generally, they are such thieves that the name fits them well, as they rarely let any merchandise pass without extorting something from the owners, if they don't rob them outright, and in fact, travelers, pilgrims, and Brāhmans are attacked and stripped of everything they own, with no hesitation to kill any group of people except for the latter. If a Brāhman happens to be killed during their attempt to steal, when this is reported to the chief, severe punishments are given to the criminals, fines are imposed, and they are excluded from society for six months. The Maloor Vellaloor and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Serrugoody Nauds are referred to as the Keelnaud, and their Cullar inhabitants are called Amblacaurs.

“The women are inflexibly vindictive and furious on the least injury, even on suspicion, which prompts them to the most violent revenge without any regard to consequences. A horrible custom exists among the females of the Colleries when a quarrel or dissension arises between them. The insulted woman brings her child to the house of the aggressor, and kills it at her door to avenge herself. Although her vengeance is attended with the most cruel barbarity, she immediately thereafter proceeds to a neighbouring village with all her goods, etc. In this attempt she is opposed by her neighbours, which gives rise to clamour and outrage. The complaint is then carried to the head Amblacaur, who lays it before the elders of the village, and solicits their interference to terminate the quarrel. In the course of this investigation, if the husband finds that sufficient evidence has been brought against his wife, that she had given cause for provocation and aggression, then he proceeds unobserved by the assembly to his house, and brings one of his children, and, in the presence of witness, kills his child at the door of the woman who had first killed her child at his. By this mode of proceeding he considers that he has saved himself much trouble and expense, which would otherwise have devolved on him. This circumstance is soon brought to the notice of the tribunal, who proclaim that the offence committed is sufficiently avenged. But, should this voluntary retribution of revenge not be executed by the convicted person, the tribunal is prorogued to a limited time, fifteen days generally. Before the expiration of that period, one of the children of that convicted [55]person must be killed. At the same time he is to bear all expenses for providing food, etc., for the assembly during those days.

The women are unyieldingly vengeful and furious over even the smallest insult, often reacting on mere suspicion, which drives them to seek violent revenge without considering the consequences. There's a terrible practice among the women of the Colleries when a conflict arises. The wronged woman takes her child to the house of the offender and kills it at her doorstep to exact revenge. Even though her act of vengeance is brutally cruel, she then heads to a neighboring village with all her belongings. This action is met with opposition from her neighbors, leading to chaos and uproar. The complaint gets taken to the head Amblacaur, who presents it to the village elders and asks for their help to resolve the dispute. During this investigation, if the husband realizes that there’s enough evidence against his wife showing that she provoked the conflict, he quietly returns home and takes one of their children, killing it at the door of the woman who initially killed her child. He believes this way, he saves himself the trouble and costs he would otherwise have to face. This situation is quickly brought to the attention of the tribunal, who announce that the offense has been sufficiently avenged. However, if this act of retribution isn’t carried out by the guilty party, the tribunal is suspended for a set period, usually fifteen days. Before that time is up, one of the convicted person’s children must be killed, and the individual is also responsible for covering all expenses for food and so on for the assembly during that time.

“A remarkable custom prevails both among the males and females in these Nauds to have their ears bored and stretched by hanging heavy rings made of lead so as to expand their ear-laps (lobes) down to their shoulders. Besides this singular idea of beauty attached by them to pendant ears, a circumstance still more remarkable is that, when merchants or travellers pass through these Nauds, they generally take the precaution to insure a safe transit through these territories by counting the friendship of some individual of the Naud by payment of a certain fee, for which he deputes a young girl to conduct the travellers safe through the limits. This sacred guide conducts them along with her finger to her ear. On observing this sign, no Cullary will dare to plunder the persons so conducted. It sometimes happens, in spite of this precaution, that attempts are made to attack the traveller. The girl in such cases immediately tears one of her ear-laps, and returns to spread the report, upon which the complaint is carried before the chief and elders of the Naud, who forthwith convene a meeting in consequence at the Mundoopoolee.31 If the violators are convicted, vindictive retaliation ensues. The assembly condemns the offenders to have both their ear-laps torn in expiation of their crime, and, if otherwise capable, they are punished by fines or absolved by money. By this means travellers generally obtain a safe passage through these territories. [Even at the present day, in quarrels between women of the lower castes, long ears form a favourite object of [56]attack, and lobe-tearing cases figure frequently in police records.32]

A striking custom is common among both men and women in these Nauds, where they have their ears pierced and stretched by hanging heavy lead rings to extend their earlobes down to their shoulders. Aside from this unique beauty standard related to elongated ears, another notable practice is that when merchants or travelers pass through these Nauds, they usually take precautions to ensure safe passage by securing the friendship of a local individual for a fee. In return, this person sends a young girl to safely guide the travelers through the area. This designated guide points to her ear with her finger. When seen, this signal ensures that no Cullary will dare to rob the individuals being escorted. However, despite this safeguard, there are times when attempts to rob travelers occur. In such cases, the girl immediately tears one of her earlobes and goes back to spread the news, leading to the complaint being brought before the chief and elders of the Naud, who promptly hold a meeting at the Mundoopoolee. If the culprits are found guilty, they face retribution. The assembly punishes the offenders by tearing both of their earlobes as a form of restitution for their crime; if capable, they may also face fines or be allowed to pay in money. This is how travelers usually secure safe passage through these territories. [Even today, in disputes among lower caste women, long earlobes are a common target of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]attacks, and lobe-tearing incidents frequently appear in police reports.32]

“The Maloor Naud was originally inhabited and cultivated by Vellaulers. At a certain period some Cullaries belonging to Vella Naud in the Conjeeveram district proceeded thence on a hunting excursion with weapons consisting of short hand pikes, cudgels, bludgeons, and curved sticks for throwing, and dogs. While engaged in their sport, they observed a peacock resist and attack one of their hounds. The sportsmen, not a little astonished at the sight, declared that this appeared to be a fortunate country, and its native inhabitants and every living creature naturally possessed courage and bravery. Preferring such a country to their Naud in Conjeeveram, they were desirous of establishing themselves here as cultivators. To effect this, they insinuated themselves into the favour of the Vellaulers, and, engaging as their servants, were permitted to remain in these parts, whither they in course of time invited their relations and friends, and to appearance conducted themselves faithfully and obediently to the entire satisfaction of the Vellaulers, and were rewarded for their labour. Some time afterwards, the Vellaulers, exercising an arbitrary sway over the Cullaries, began to inflict condign punishment for offences and misdemeanours committed in their service. This stirred up the wrath of the Cullaries, who gradually acquired the superiority over their masters, and by coercive measures impelled them to a strict observance of the following rules:—

“The Maloor Naud was originally inhabited and farmed by Vellaulers. At one point, some Cullaries from Vella Naud in the Conjeeveram district went on a hunting trip with short spears, clubs, bludgeons, curved throwing sticks, and dogs. While they were having fun, they saw a peacock fight back and attack one of their hounds. The hunters, surprised by this, said that this seemed to be a lucky land, where the native people and all living beings were naturally brave and courageous. Preferring this land to their own in Conjeeveram, they wanted to settle here as farmers. To do this, they ingratiated themselves with the Vellaulers and worked for them, gaining permission to stay in the area. Over time, they invited their relatives and friends and appeared to behave faithfully and obediently, fully satisfying the Vellaulers, who rewarded them for their efforts. After a while, the Vellaulers, exercising their power over the Cullaries, began to punish them harshly for any offenses and mistakes made in their service. This angered the Cullaries, who gradually gained the upper hand over their masters and forced them to strictly follow these rules:—"

1st.—That, if a Culler was struck by his master in such a manner as to deprive him of a tooth, he was to pay a fine of ten cully chuckrums (money) for the offence. [57]

1st.—That if a Culler was hit by his master in a way that knocked out a tooth, he had to pay a fine of ten cully chuckrums (money) for the offense. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

2nd.—That, if a Culler happened to have one of his ear-laps torn, the Vellauler was to pay a fine of six chuckrums.

2nd.—If a Culler accidentally tore one of his ear-laps, the Vellauler had to pay a fine of six chuckrums.

3rd.—That if a Culler had his skull fractured, the Vellauler was to pay thirty chuckrums, unless he preferred to have his skull fractured in return.

3rd.—If a Culler had his skull broken, the Vellauler was to pay thirty chuckrums, unless he chose to have his skull broken in return.

4th.—That, if a Culler had his arm or leg broke, he was then to be considered but half a man. In such case the offender was required to grant the Culler one cullum of nunjah seed land (wet cultivation), and two koorkums of punjah (dry cultivation), to be held and enjoyed in perpetuity, exclusive of which the Vellauler was required to give the Culler a doopettah (cloth) and a cloth for his wife, twenty cullums of paddy or any other grain, and twenty chuckrums in money for expenses.

4th.—If a Culler broke an arm or a leg, he was considered only half a man. In that case, the offender had to give the Culler one cullum of wet land (nunjah seed) and two koorkums of dry land (punjah), which would be owned forever. Additionally, the Vellauler had to provide the Culler with a doopettah (a cloth) and a cloth for his wife, along with twenty cullums of paddy or another type of grain, and twenty chuckrums in cash for expenses.

5th.—That, if a Culler was killed, the offender was required to pay either a fine of a hundred chuckrums, or be subject to the vengeance of the injured party. Until either of these alternatives was agreed to, and satisfaction afforded, the party injured was at liberty to plunder the offender’s property, never to be restored.

5th.—If a Culler was killed, the offender had to pay either a fine of a hundred chuckrums or face the wrath of the injured party. Until one of these options was accepted and compensation was made, the injured party was allowed to take the offender’s property, which would never be returned.

“By this hostile mode of conduct imposed on their masters, together with their extravagant demands, the Vellaulers were reduced to that dread of the Cullers as to court their favour, and became submissive to their will and pleasure, so that in process of time the Cullers not only reduced them to poverty, but also induced them to abandon their villages and hereditary possessions, and to emigrate to foreign countries. Many were even murdered in total disregard of their former solemn promises of fidelity and attachment. Having thus implacably got rid of their original masters and expelled them from their Naud, they became the rulers of it, and denominated it by the singular appellation of Tun Arrasa Naud, [58]signifying a forest only known to its possessors [or tanarasu-nād, i.e., the country governed by themselves].33 In short, these Colleries became so formidable at length as to evince a considerable ambition, and to set the then Government at defiance. Allagar Swamy they regarded as the God of their immediate devotion, and, whenever their enterprizes were attended with success, they never failed to be liberal in the performance of certain religious ceremonies to Allagar. To this day they invoke the name of Allagar in all what they do, and they make no objection in contributing whatever they can when the Stalaters come to their villages to collect money or grain for the support of the temple, or any extraordinary ceremonies of the God. The Cullers of this Naud, in the line of the Kurtaukles, once robbed and drove away a large herd of cows belonging to the Prince, who, on being informed of the robbery, and that the calves were highly distressed for want of nourishment, ordered them to be drove out of and left with the cows, wherever they were found. The Cullers were so exceedingly pleased with this instance of the Kurtaukle’s goodness and greatness of mind that they immediately collected a thousand cows (at one cow from every house) in the Naud as a retribution, and drove them along with the plundered cattle to Madura. Whenever a quarrel or dispute happens among them, the parties arrest each other in the name of the respective Amblacaurs, whom they regard as most sacred, and they will only pay their homage to those persons convened as arbitrators or punjayems to settle their disputes.

“Through this aggressive behavior forced upon them by their masters, along with their unreasonable demands, the Vellaulers became so afraid of the Cullers that they sought to win their favor and became obedient to their wishes. Over time, the Cullers not only drove them into poverty but also persuaded them to leave their villages and ancestral lands to migrate to foreign places. Many were even killed, disregarding their previous promises of loyalty and devotion. Having ruthlessly eliminated their original masters and pushed them out of their Naud, they took control and named it Tun Arrasa Naud, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] which means a forest known only to its owners [or tanarasu-nād, i.e., the country ruled by themselves]. 33 Eventually, these Colleries became so powerful that they displayed significant ambition and openly challenged the existing Government. They viewed Allagar Swamy as their primary deity, and whenever their endeavors met with success, they generously performed certain religious rituals for Allagar. To this day, they invoke Allagar’s name in everything they do and willingly contribute whatever they can when the Stalaters come to their villages to collect money or grain for the temple or any special ceremonies for the God. The Cullers of this Naud, in line with the Kurtaukles, once stole and drove away a large herd of cows belonging to the Prince. Upon learning of the theft and that the calves were suffering due to lack of food, he ordered that they be returned and left with the cows, wherever they were found. The Cullers were so grateful for this act of kindness from the Kurtaukle that they quickly gathered a thousand cows (one from every household) in the Naud as a form of compensation and drove them along with the stolen cattle to Madura. Whenever a conflict or disagreement arises among them, the parties arrest each other in the name of their respective Amblacaurs, whom they highly revere, and they will only show respect to those gathered as arbitrators or punjayems to resolve their disputes.”

“During the feudal system that prevailed among these Colleries for a long time, they would on no [59]consideration permit the then Government to have any control or authority over them. When tribute was demanded, the Cullers would answer with contempt: ‘The heavens supply the earth with rain, our cattle plough, and we labour to improve and cultivate the land. While such is the case, we alone ought to enjoy the fruits thereof. What reason is there that we should be obedient, and pay tribute to our equal?’

“During the long-standing feudal system among these Colleries, they would not allow the Government to have any control or authority over them under any circumstances. When tribute was requested, the Cullers would respond with disdain: ‘The heavens provide rain for the earth, our cattle plow, and we work hard to develop and cultivate the land. As long as that’s true, we should be the only ones to enjoy the rewards. What reason do we have to be obedient and pay tribute to our equals?’”

“During the reign of Vizia Ragoonada Saitooputty34 a party of Colleries, having proceeded on a plundering excursion into the Rāmnād district, carried off two thousand of the Rāja’s own bullocks. The Rāja was so exasperated that he caused forts to be erected at five different places in the Shevagunga and Rāmnād districts, and, on pretext of establishing a good understanding with these Nauttams, he artfully invited the principal men among them, and, having encouraged them by repeatedly conferring marks of his favour, caused a great number to be slain, and a number of their women to be transported to Ramiserum, where they were branded with the marks of the pagoda, and made Deva Dassies or dancing girls and slaves of the temple. The present dancing girls in that celebrated island are said to be the descendants of these women of the Culler tribe.” In the eighteenth century a certain Captain Rumley was sent with troops to check the turbulent Colleries. “He became the terror of the Collerie Naud, and was highly respected and revered by the designation of Rumley Swamy, under which appellation the Colleries afterwards distinguished him.” It is on record that, during the Trichinopoly war, the horses of Clive and Stringer Lawrence were stolen by two Kallan brothers. [60]

“During the rule of Vizia Ragoonada Saitooputty34, a group of Colleries went on a raiding mission in the Rāmnād district and kidnapped two thousand of the Rāja’s own bullocks. The Rāja was so furious that he had forts built in five different locations in the Shevagunga and Rāmnād districts. Under the guise of wanting to build a good relationship with the Nauttams, he cleverly invited their leaders, and, after winning their favor with various honors, had many of them killed and their women taken to Ramiserum. There, they were marked with the symbols of the temple and turned into Deva Dassies, or dancing girls and temple slaves. It’s said that the current dancing girls on that famous island are descendants of these women from the Culler tribe.” In the eighteenth century, a certain Captain Rumley was sent with troops to deal with the rebellious Colleries. “He became the dread of the Collerie Naud and was greatly respected and revered by the name Rumley Swamy, under which title the Colleries later identified him.” It is recorded that, during the Trichinopoly war, the horses of Clive and Stringer Lawrence were stolen by two Kallan brothers. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Tradition says that one of the rooms in Tirumala Nāyakkan’s palace at Madura “was Tirumala’s sleeping apartment, and that his cot hung by long chains from hooks in the roof. One night, says a favourite story, a Kallan made a hole in the roof, swarmed down the chains, and stole the royal jewels. The king promised a jaghir (grant of land) to anyone who would bring him the thief, and the Kallan then gave himself up and claimed the reward. The king gave him the jaghir, and then promptly had him beheaded.”35

Tradition states that one of the rooms in Tirumala Nāyakkan’s palace in Madura “was Tirumala’s bedroom, and his bed hung from the ceiling by long chains. One night, according to a popular story, a thief made a hole in the roof, climbed down the chains, and stole the royal jewels. The king promised a land grant to anyone who could capture the thief, and the thief then surrendered himself and claimed the reward. The king granted him the land, and then immediately had him executed.”35

By Mr. H. A. Stuart36 the Kallans are said to be “a middle-sized dark-skinned tribe found chiefly in the districts of Tanjore, Trichinopoly and Madura, and in the Pudukōta territory. The name Kallan is commonly derived from Tamil kallam, which means theft. Mr. Nelson37 expresses some doubts as to the correctness of this derivation, but Dr. Oppert accepts it, and no other has been suggested. The original home of the Kallans appears to have been Tondamandalam or the Pallava country, and the head of the class, the Rāja of Pudukōta, is to this day called the Tondaman. There are good grounds for believing that the Kallans are a branch of the Kurumbas, who, when they found their regular occupation as soldiers gone, ‘took to maraudering, and made themselves so obnoxious by their thefts and robberies, that the term kallan, thief, was applied, and stuck to them as a tribal appellation.’38 The Rev. W. Taylor, the compiler of the Catalogue Raisonné of Oriental Manuscripts, also identifies the Kallans with the Kurumbas, and Mr. Nelson accepts this conclusion. In the census returns, Kurumban is returned as one of the sub-divisions of the Kallan caste.’ [61]

By Mr. H. A. Stuart36 the Kallans are described as “a medium-sized, dark-skinned tribe mainly located in the Tanjore, Trichinopoly, and Madura districts, as well as the Pudukōta territory. The name Kallan is usually derived from the Tamil word 'kallam,' which means theft. Mr. Nelson37 has some doubts about the accuracy of this derivation, but Dr. Oppert accepts it, and no alternative has been proposed. The Kallans seem to have originally come from Tondamandalam, or the Pallava region, and the leader of the group, the Rāja of Pudukōta, is still referred to as the Tondaman. There is substantial evidence suggesting that the Kallans are a branch of the Kurumbas, who, when their usual role as soldiers disappeared, resorted to looting and became so notorious for their thefts and robberies that the term 'kallan,' meaning thief, was used to label them as a tribe.”38 The Rev. W. Taylor, who compiled the Catalogue Raisonné of Oriental Manuscripts, also links the Kallans with the Kurumbas, and Mr. Nelson agrees with this view. In the census data, Kurumban is listed as one of the sub-groups of the Kallan caste.’ [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

“The Chōla country, or Tanjore,” Mr. W. Francis writes,39 “seems to have been the original abode of the Kallans before their migration to the Pāndya kingdom after its conquest by the Chōlas about the eleventh century A.D. But in Tanjore they have been greatly influenced by the numerous Brāhmans there, and have taken to shaving their heads and employing Brāhmans as priests. At their weddings also the bridegroom ties the tāli himself, while elsewhere his sister does it. Their brethren across the border in Madura continue to merely tie their hair in a knot, and employ their own folk to officiate as their priests. This advance of one section will doubtless in time enhance the social estimation of the caste as a whole.”

“The Chōla country, or Tanjore,” Mr. W. Francis writes, 39 “seems to have been the original home of the Kallans before they moved to the Pāndya kingdom after it was conquered by the Chōlas around the eleventh century A.D. However, in Tanjore, they have been significantly influenced by the many Brāhmans there and have adopted the practice of shaving their heads and hiring Brāhmans as priests. During their weddings, the groom ties the tāli himself, whereas in other areas, his sister does it. Their relatives across the border in Madura still just tie their hair in a knot and use their own community members as priests. This progress by one group will likely improve the social standing of the caste as a whole over time.”

It is further noted, in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district, that the ambitions of the Kallans have been assisted “by their own readiness, especially in the more advanced portions of the district, to imitate the practices of Brāhmans and Vellālans. Great variations thus occur in their customs in different localities, and a wide gap exists between the Kallans of this district as a whole and those of Madura.”

It is also mentioned in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district that the Kallans' ambitions have been supported “by their willingness, especially in the more developed areas of the district, to adopt the customs of Brāhmans and Vellālans. This leads to significant differences in their traditions across various locations, creating a noticeable divide between the Kallans in this district overall and those in Madura.”

In the Manual of the Tanjore district, it is stated that “profitable agriculture, coupled with security of property in land, has converted the great bulk of the Kallar and Padeiyachi classes into a contented and industrious population. They are now too fully occupied with agriculture, and the incidental litigation, to think of their old lawless pursuits, even if they had an inclination to follow them. The bulk of the ryotwari proprietors in that richly cultivated part of the Cauvery delta which constituted the greater part of the old tāluk of Tiruvādi [62]are Kallars, and, as a rule, they are a wealthy and well-to-do class. The Kallar ryots, who inhabit the villages along the banks of the Cauvery, in their dress and appearance generally look quite like Vellālas. Some of the less romantic and inoffensive characteristics of the Kallars in Madura and Tinnevelly are found among the recent immigrants from the south, who are distinguished from the older Kallar colonies by the general term Terkattiyār, literally southerns, which includes emigrants of other castes from the south. The Terkattiyārs are found chiefly in the parts of the district which border on Pudukōta. Kallars of this group grow their hair long all over the head exactly like women, and both men and women enlarge the holes in the lobes of their ears to an extraordinary size by inserting rolls of palm-leaf into them.” The term Terkattiyār is applied to Kallan, Maravan, Agamudaiyan, and other immigrants into the Tanjore district. At Mayaveram, for example, it is applied to Kalians, Agamudaiyans, and Valaiyans. It is noted, in the Census Report, 1891, that Agamudaiyan and Kallan were returned as sub-divisions of Maravans by a comparatively large number of persons. “Maravan is also found among the sub-divisions of Kallan, and there can be little doubt that there is a very close connection between Kallans, Maravans, and Agamudaiyans.” “The origin of the Kallar caste,” Mr. F. S. Mullaly writes,40 “as also that of the Maravars and Ahambadayars, is mythologically traced to Indra and Aghalia, the wife of Rishi Gautama. The legend is that Indra and Rishi Gautama were, among others, rival suitors for the hand of Aghalia. Rishi Gautama was the successful one. This so incensed Indra that he [63]determined to win Aghalia at all hazards, and, by means of a cleverly devised ruse, succeeded, and Aghalia bore him three sons, who respectively took the names Kalla, Marava, and Ahambadya. The three castes have the agnomen Thēva or god, and claim to be descendants of Thēvan (Indra).” According to another version of the legend “once upon a time Rishi Gautama left his house to go abroad on business. Dēvendra, taking advantage of his absence, debauched his wife, and three children were the result. When the Rishi returned, one of the three hid himself behind a door, and, as he thus acted like a thief, he was henceforward called Kallan. Another got up a tree, and was therefore called Maravan from maram, a tree, whilst the third brazened it out and stood his ground, thus earning for himself the name of Ahamudeiyan, or the possessor of pride. This name was corrupted into Ahambadiyan.”41 There is a Tamil proverb that a Kallan may come to be a Maravan. By respectability he may develop into an Agamudaiyan, and, by slow and small degrees, become a Vellāla, from which he may rise to be a Mudaliar.

In the Manual of the Tanjore district, it says that “profitable agriculture, along with property security in land, has transformed most of the Kallar and Padeiyachi communities into a satisfied and hardworking population. They are now too busy with farming and the occasional litigation to consider their old, lawless activities, even if they wanted to. Most of the ryotwari landowners in the affluent regions of the Cauvery delta, which makes up the majority of the old tāluk of Tiruvādi [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], are Kallars, and generally, they are a prosperous and well-off group. The Kallar farmers living in the villages along the banks of the Cauvery often appear similar to Vellālas in their attire and appearance. Some less romantic and milder traits of the Kallars in Madura and Tinnevelly can be seen among the recent immigrants from the south, who are referred to by the general term Terkattiyār, literally meaning southerners, which includes migrants of various castes from south. The Terkattiyārs primarily inhabit the areas of the district that border Pudukōta. Kallars from this group grow their hair long like women, and both men and women stretch their earlobes to a remarkable size by inserting rolls of palm-leaf into them.” The term Terkattiyār applies to Kallan, Maravan, Agamudaiyan, and other immigrants to the Tanjore district. In Mayaveram, for instance, it is used for Kalians, Agamudaiyans, and Valaiyans. The Census Report of 1891 mentions that many people identified Agamudaiyan and Kallan as sub-groups of Maravans. “Maravan is also listed among the sub-divisions of Kallan, and there is little doubt about the close connection between Kallans, Maravans, and Agamudaiyans.” “The origin of the Kallar caste,” Mr. F. S. Mullaly writes, 40 “as well as that of the Maravars and Ahambadayars, is mythologically traced back to Indra and Aghalia, the wife of Rishi Gautama. The legend states that Indra and Rishi Gautama were both suitors for Aghalia’s hand. Rishi Gautama won her over, which enraged Indra, who, determined to win Aghalia at any cost, used a clever trick to succeed, resulting in Aghalia giving birth to three sons who were named Kalla, Marava, and Ahambadya. These three castes carry the title Thēva or god, claiming to be descendants of Thēvan (Indra).” According to another version of the tale, “once upon a time, Rishi Gautama went away on business. Dēvendra, taking advantage of his absence, seduced his wife, resulting in three children. When the Rishi returned, one of the three hid behind a door, so he was called Kallan for his thief-like behavior. Another climbed a tree, earning him the name Maravan from maram, which means tree, while the third stood firm, thereby earning the name Ahamudeiyan, meaning proud one. This name later morphed into Ahambadiyan.” 41 There’s a Tamil proverb that says a Kallan can become a Maravan. Through respectability, he can develop into an Agamudaiyan, and gradually become a Vellāla, from which he may rise to be a Mudaliar.

“The Kallans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,42 “will eat flesh, excepting beef, and have no scruples regarding the use of intoxicating liquor. They are usually farmers or field-labourers, but many of them are employed as village or other watchmen, and not a few depend for their subsistence upon the proceeds of thefts and robberies. In Trichinopoly town, householders are obliged to keep a member of the Kallan caste in their service as a protection against the depredations of these thieves, and any refusal to give in to this custom invariably results in loss of property. On the other [64]hand, if a theft should, by any chance, be committed in a house where a Kallan is employed, the articles stolen will be recovered, and returned to the owner. In Madura town, I am informed, a tax of four annas per annum is levied on houses in certain streets by the head of the Kallan caste in return for protection against theft.” In the Census Report, 1901, Mr. Francis records that “the Kallans, Maravans, and Agamudaiyans are responsible for a share of the crime of the southern districts, which is out of all proportion to their strength in them. In 1897, the Inspector-General of Prisons reported that nearly 42 per cent. of the convicts in the Madura jail, and 30 per cent, of those in the Palamcottah jail in Tinnevelly, belonged to one or other of these three castes. In Tinnevelly, in 1894, 131 cattle thefts were committed by men of these three castes against 47 by members of others, which is one theft to 1,497 of the population of the three bodies against one to 37,830 of the other castes. The statistics of their criminality in Trichinopoly and Madura were also bad. The Kallans had until recently a regular system of blackmail, called kudikāval, under which each village paid certain fees to be exempt from theft. The consequences of being in arrears with their payments quickly followed in the shape of cattle thefts and ‘accidental’ fires in houses. In Madura the villagers recently struck against this extortion. The agitation was started by a man of the Idaiyan or shepherd caste, which naturally suffered greatly by the system, and continued from 1893 to 1896.” The origin of the agitation is said43 to have been the anger of certain of the Idaiyans with a Kallan Lothario, who enticed away a woman of their caste, and afterwards her daughter, and [65]kept both women simultaneously under his protection. The story of this anti-Kallan agitation is told as follows in the Police Administration Report, 1896. “Many of the Kallans are the kavalgars of the villages under the kaval system. Under that system the kavalgars receive fees, and in some cases rent-free land for undertaking to protect the property of the villagers against theft, or to restore an equivalent in value for anything lost. The people who suffer most at the hands of the Kallars are the shepherds (Kōnans or Idaiyans). Their sheep and goats form a convenient subject for the Kallar’s raids. They are taken for kaval fees alleged to be overdue, and also stolen, again to be restored on the payment of blackmail. The anti-Kallar movement was started by a man of the shepherd caste, and rapidly spread. Meetings of villagers were held, at which thousands attended. They took oath on their ploughs to dispense with the services of the Kallars; they formed funds to compensate such of them as lost their cattle, or whose houses were burnt; they arranged for watchmen among themselves to patrol the villages at night; they provided horns to be sounded to carry the alarm in cases of theft from village to village, and prescribed a regular scale of fines to be paid by those villagers who failed to turn out on the sound of the alarm. The Kallans in the north in many cases sold their lands, and left their villages, but in some places they showed fight. For six months crime is said to have ceased absolutely, and, as one deponent put it, people even left their buckets at the wells. In one or two places the Kallans gathered in large bodies in view to overawe the villagers, and riots followed. In one village there were three murders, and the Kallar quarter was destroyed by fire, but whether the fire was the work of Kōnans or Kallars has never been discovered. In [66]August, large numbers of villagers attacked the Kallars in two villages in the Dindigul division, and burnt the Kallar quarters.”

“The Kallans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, “will eat meat, except for beef, and have no issues with using alcoholic drinks. They mostly work as farmers or laborers in the fields, but many are also employed as village watchmen, and quite a few rely on the profits from theft and robbery to get by. In Trichinopoly town, homeowners are required to have a member of the Kallan caste in their employment for protection against the attacks from these thieves, and refusing this custom usually leads to property loss. On the other hand, if a theft happens in a house where a Kallan is employed, the stolen items will be recovered and returned to the owner. I hear that in Madura town, a tax of four annas per year is charged on houses in certain streets by the head of the Kallan caste in exchange for protection against theft.” In the Census Report, 1901, Mr. Francis notes that “the Kallans, Maravans, and Agamudaiyans contribute to a significant amount of crime in the southern districts, which is disproportionate to their population numbers there. In 1897, the Inspector-General of Prisons reported that nearly 42 percent of the prisoners in the Madura jail, and 30 percent of those in the Palamcottah jail in Tinnevelly, belonged to one or more of these three castes. In Tinnevelly, in 1894, 131 cattle thefts were committed by men from these three castes compared to 47 by members of others, which results in a theft rate of one for every 1,497 people in the three castes against one for every 37,830 in the others. The crime statistics for the Kallans in Trichinopoly and Madura were also concerning. Until recently, the Kallans operated a system of extortion, called kudikāval, where each village paid certain fees to avoid theft. If a village was behind on payments, it quickly faced cattle thefts and 'accidental' fires in their homes. Recently, villagers in Madura protested against this extortion. This movement began with a man from the Idaiyan or shepherd caste, who was particularly affected by the system, and continued from 1893 to 1896.” The origin of the protest is said to have stemmed from the anger of some Idaiyans towards a Kallan womanizer who lured away a woman from their caste, and later her daughter, keeping both women under his protection at the same time. The details of this anti-Kallan movement are explained in the Police Administration Report, 1896. “Many of the Kallans serve as the kavalgars of the villages under the kaval system. In this system, the kavalgars receive fees and sometimes rent-free land for agreeing to protect villagers' property from theft, or to replace anything lost with something of equal value. The people who are most affected by the Kallans are the shepherds (Kōnans or Idaiyans). Their sheep and goats become easy targets for the Kallan’s raids. They are taken for kaval fees claimed to be overdue, and also stolen, only to be returned after blackmail is paid. The anti-Kallan movement was initiated by a shepherd, and it quickly gained momentum. Villagers held meetings with thousands in attendance. They pledged on their plows to stop employing Kallans; they collected funds to compensate those who lost cattle or had their homes burned; they organized watchmen to patrol the villages at night; they provided horns to signal alarms about thefts from village to village, and established a set system of fines for villagers who didn’t respond to alarms. In the northern regions, many Kallans sold their lands and left their villages, but some fought back. For six months, it’s reported that crime completely stopped, and as one witness said, people even left their buckets at wells. In a few places, Kallans gathered in large groups to intimidate the villagers, leading to riots. In one village, three murders occurred, and the Kallar area was set on fire, though it was never determined whether the fire was started by Kōnans or Kallans. In August, large groups of villagers attacked the Kallans in two villages in the Dindigul division and burned down the Kallar quarters.”

“The crimes,” Mr. F. S. Mullaly writes,44 “that Kallars are addicted to are dacoity in houses or on highways, robbery, house-breaking and cattle-stealing. They are usually armed with vellari thadis or clubs (the so-called boomerangs) and occasionally with knives similar to those worn by the inhabitants of the western coast. Their method of house-breaking is to make the breach in the wall under the door. A lad of diminutive size then creeps in, and opens the door for the elders. Jewels worn by sleepers are seldom touched. The stolen property is hidden in convenient places, in drains, wells, or straw stacks, and is sometimes returned to the owner on receipt of blackmail from him called tuppu-kūli or clue hire. The women seldom join in crimes, but assist the men in their dealings (for disposal of the stolen property) with the Chettis.” It is noted by the Abbé Dubois that the Kallars “regard a robber’s occupation as discreditable neither to themselves, nor to their fellow castemen, for the simple reason that they consider robbery a duty, and a right sanctioned by descent. If one were to ask of a Kallar to what people he belonged, he would coolly answer, I am a robber.”

“The crimes,” Mr. F. S. Mullaly writes,44 “that Kallars are known for include breaking into homes or robbing on highways, house burglary, and stealing livestock. They are usually armed with vellari thadis or clubs (the so-called boomerangs) and sometimes with knives similar to those carried by people from the western coast. Their method of breaking into homes involves creating a hole in the wall under the door. A small boy then sneaks in and opens the door for the older members. They rarely take jewelry worn by people while they sleep. Stolen goods are hidden in convenient spots like drains, wells, or straw stacks, and sometimes returned to the owner after receiving a ransom from him known as tuppu-kūli or clue hire. Women seldom participate in the crimes but help the men with the disposal of the stolen property to the Chettis.” The Abbé Dubois notes that the Kallars “do not see a robber’s trade as shameful for themselves or their fellow castemen because they view robbery as a duty and a right passed down through generations. If you were to ask a Kallar what community he belongs to, he would casually reply, I am a robber.”

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “dacoity of travellers at night used to be the favourite pastime of the Kallans, and their favourite haunts the various roads leading out of Madura, and that from Ammayanāyakkanūr to Periyakulam. The method adopted consisted in threatening the driver of the cart, and then turning the vehicle into the ditch so [67]that it upset. The unfortunate travellers were then forced by some of the gang to sit at the side of the road, with their backs to the cart and their faces to the ground, while their baggage was searched for valuables by the remainder. The gangs which frequented these roads have now broken up, and the caste has practically quitted road dacoity for the simpler, more paying, and less risky business of stealing officials’ office-boxes and ryots’ cattle. Cattle-theft is now the most popular calling among them. They are clever at handling animals, and probably the popularity of the jallikats (see Maravan) has its origin in the demands of a life, which always included much cattle-lifting. The stolen animals are driven great distances (as much as 20 or 30 miles) on the night of the theft, and are then hidden for the day either in a friend’s house, or among hills and jungles. The next night they are taken still further, and again hidden. Pursuit is by this time hopeless, as the owner has no idea even in which direction to search. He, therefore, proceeds to the nearest go-between (these individuals are well-known to every one), and offers him a reward if he will bring back the cattle. This reward is called tuppu-kūli, or payment for clues, and is very usually as much as half the value of the animals stolen. The Kallan undertakes to search for the lost bullocks, returns soon, and states that he has found them, receives his tuppu-kūli, and then tells the owner of the property that, if he will go to a spot named, which is usually in some lonely neighbourhood, he will find his cattle tied up there. This information is always correct. If, on the other hand, the owner reports the theft to the police, no Kallan will help him to recover his animals, and these are eventually sold in other districts or Travancore, or even sent across from Tuticorin to Ceylon. Consequently, [68]hardly any cattle-thefts are ever reported to the police. Where the Kallans are most numerous, the fear of incendiarism induces people to try to afford a tiled or terraced roof, instead of being content with thatch. The cattle are always tied up in the houses at night. Fear of the Kallans prevents them from being left in the fields, and they may be seen coming into the villages every evening in scores, choking every one with the dust they kick up, and polluting the village site (instead of manuring the land) for twelve hours out of every twenty-four. Buffaloes are tied up outside the houses. Kallans do not care to steal them, as they are of little value, are very troublesome when a stranger tries to handle them, and cannot travel fast or far enough to be out of reach of detection by daybreak. The Kallans’ inveterate addiction to dacoity and theft render the caste to this day a thorn in the flesh of the authorities. A very large proportion of the thefts committed in the district are attributable to them. Nor are they ashamed of the fact. One of them defended his class by urging that every other class stole, the official by taking bribes, the vakil (law pleader) by fostering animosities, and so pocketing fees, the merchant by watering the arrack (spirit) and sanding the sugar, and so on, and that the Kallans differed from these only in the directness of their methods. Round about Mēlūr, the people of the caste are taking energetically to wet cultivation, to the exclusion of cattle-lifting, with the Periyār water, which has lately been brought there. In some of the villages to the south of that town, they have drawn up a formal agreement (which has been solemnly registered, and is most rigorously enforced by the headmen), forbidding theft, recalling all the women who have emigrated to Ceylon and elsewhere, and, with an enlightenment which puts [69]other communities to shame, prohibiting several other unwise practices which are only too common, such as the removal from the fields of cow-dung for fuel, and the pollution of drinking-water tanks (ponds) by stepping into them. Hard things have been said about the Kallans, but points to their credit are the chastity of their women, the cleanliness they observe in and around their villages, and their marked sobriety. A toddy-shop in a Kallan village is seldom a financial success.”

It’s documented in the Gazetteer of the Madura district that “robbing travelers at night used to be a popular activity for the Kallans, with their favorite spots being the various roads leading out of Madura, especially from Ammayanāyakkanūr to Periyakulam. They would threaten the cart driver and then push the vehicle into a ditch so that it overturned. The unfortunate travelers were then forced by some members of the gang to sit by the roadside, facing down with their backs to the cart, while others searched their luggage for valuables. The gangs that once roamed these roads have now disbanded, and the Kallans have largely moved away from road robbery to the easier, more profitable, and less dangerous business of stealing office boxes from officials and cattle from farmers. Cattle theft is now the most common profession among them. They are skilled at handling animals, and the popularity of jallikats (see Maravan) likely has roots in their lifestyle, which has always involved cattle raiding. The stolen animals are driven long distances (up to 20 or 30 miles) on the night of the theft and then hidden during the day in a friend’s house or in hills and jungles. The following night, they are moved even further and hidden again. By this time, pursuit is pointless, as the owner has no clue which way to search. He then approaches the nearest middleman (who is well-known to everyone) and offers a reward for recovering the cattle. This reward, known as tuppu-kūli, or payment for leads, is often about half the value of the stolen animals. The Kallan agrees to look for the lost cattle, returns shortly, claiming to have found them, collects his tuppu-kūli, and tells the owner that if he goes to a specified location, usually in a secluded area, he will find his cattle tied there. This information is always accurate. On the other hand, if the owner reports the theft to the police, no Kallan will assist him in recovering his animals, which are eventually sold in other districts or even sent from Tuticorin to Ceylon. As a result, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] very few cattle thefts are reported to the police. Where the Kallans are most prevalent, the fear of arson encourages people to invest in tiled or terraced roofs instead of sticking with thatch. The cattle are always tied up in the houses at night because fear of the Kallans prevents them from being left in the fields. Every evening, you can see them coming into the villages in droves, kicking up dust and polluting the village for twelve hours of every twenty-four. Buffaloes are tied up outside the houses, as Kallans don’t bother stealing them since they have little value, are difficult to handle, and can’t travel quickly or far enough to avoid detection by dawn. The Kallans’ deep-seated involvement in robbery and theft makes them a constant headache for the authorities. A significant number of the thefts in the district can be traced back to them, and they have no shame about it. One Kallan even defended his group by arguing that every other class is engaged in theft—officials through bribery, lawyers by stirring up conflicts and pocketing fees, merchants by diluting arrack (liquor) and mixing sand with sugar, and so forth—pointing out that the Kallans differ only in the straightforwardness of their methods. Around Mēlūr, members of their caste are actively embracing wet farming, moving away from cattle theft, thanks to the Periyār water that has recently been introduced. In some villages south of that town, they’ve created a formal agreement (which is officially registered and strictly enforced) banning theft, inviting back women who migrated to Ceylon and elsewhere, and demonstrating an awareness that puts [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]other communities to shame by prohibiting several other common but unwise practices, like taking cow dung from the fields for fuel and contaminating drinking water tanks (ponds) by stepping into them. While negative things have been said about the Kallans, it’s worth noting their women’s chastity, the cleanliness of their villages, and their notable sobriety. A toddy shop in a Kallan village is rarely a successful business.”

Kallan Children with Dilated Ear-lobes.

Kallan Children with Dilated Ear-lobes.

Kallan kids with stretched earlobes.

From a recent note,45 I gather the following additional information concerning tuppu-kuli. “The Kallans are largely guilty of cattle-thefts. In many cases, they return the cattle on receiving tuppu-kuli. The official returns do not show many of these cases. No cattle-owner thinks of reporting the loss of any of his cattle. Naturally his first instinct is that it might have strayed away, being live property. The tuppu-kuli system generally helps the owner to recover his lost cattle. He has only to pay half of its real value, and, when he recovers his animal, he goes home with the belief that he has really made a profitable bargain. There is no matter for complaint, but, on the other hand, he is glad that he got back his animal for use, often at the most opportune time. Cattle are indispensable to the agriculturist at all times of the year. Perhaps, sometimes, when the rains fail, he may not use them. But if, after a long drought, there is a shower, immediately every agriculturist runs to his field with his plough and cattle, and tills it. If, at such a time, his cattle be stolen, he considers as though he were beaten on his belly, and his means of livelihood gone. No cattle will be available then for hire. There is nothing that he will not part [70]with, to get back his cattle. There is then the nefarious system of tuppu-kuli offering itself, and he freely resorts to it, and succeeds in getting back his lost cattle sooner or later. On the other hand, if a complaint is made to the Village Magistrate or Police, recovery by this channel is impossible. The tuppu-kuli agents have their spies or informants everywhere, dogging the footsteps of the owner of the stolen cattle, and of those who are likely to help him in recovering it. As soon as they know the case is recorded in the Police station, they determine not to let the animal go back to its owner at any risk, unless some mutual friend intervenes, and works mightily for the recovery, in which case the restoration is generally through the pound. Such a restoration is, primâ facie, cattle-straying, for only stray cattle are taken to the pound. This, too, is done after a good deal of hard swearing on both sides not to hand over the offender to the authorities.”

From a recent note, 45 I gather the following additional information about tuppu-kuli. “The Kallans are mostly responsible for cattle thefts. In many situations, they return the cattle after receiving tuppu-kuli. Official reports don’t reflect many of these cases. No cattle owner thinks to report the loss of their cattle. Naturally, their first instinct is to think the animals might have wandered off, since they are living property. The tuppu-kuli system generally helps the owner get back their lost cattle. They only have to pay half of the animal's actual value, and when they recover their animal, they leave feeling like they've made a great deal. There’s no cause for complaint; instead, they’re just glad to have their animal back for use, often at the most convenient time. Cattle are essential for farmers all year round. Perhaps sometimes, when the rains don’t come, they might not be used. But if, after a long drought, it rains, every farmer rushes to their field with their plow and cattle to work it. If, during such a time, their cattle are stolen, it feels like a heavy blow, and their source of income is lost. No cattle will be available for hire then. They will give up anything to get their cattle back. This is where the shady tuppu-kuli system comes into play, and they gladly turn to it, eventually getting their lost cattle back. On the other hand, if a complaint is filed with the Village Magistrate or Police, recovering through that route is unlikely. The tuppu-kuli agents have spies or informants everywhere, closely following the owner of the stolen cattle and anyone who might assist in recovery. As soon as they learn that the case has been reported to the Police, they ensure that the animal won’t return to its owner at any cost unless some mutual friend steps in and works hard for recovery— in which case, the restoration typically happens through the pound. Such a restoration is, primâ facie, categorized as cattle-straying since only stray cattle are taken to the pound. This is also done after a lot of swearing by both parties against handing over the offender to the authorities.”

In connection with the ‘vellari thadi’ referred to above, Dr. Oppert writes46 that “boomerangs are used by the Tamil Maravans and Kallans when hunting deer. The Madras Museum collection contains three (two ivory, one wooden) from the Tanjore armoury. In the arsenal of the Pudukkōttai Rāja a stock of wooden boomerangs is always kept. Their name in Tamil is valai tadi (bent stick).” Concerning these boomerangs, the Dewān of Pudukkōttai writes to me as follows. “The valari or valai tadi is a short weapon, generally made of some hard-grained wood. It is also sometimes made of iron. It is crescent-shaped, one end being heavier than the other, and the outer edge is sharpened. Men trained in the use of the weapon hold it by the lighter end, whirl [71]it a few times over their shoulders to give it impetus, and then hurl it with great force against the object aimed at. It is said that there were experts in the art of throwing the valari, who could at one stroke despatch small game, and even man. No such experts are now forthcoming in the State, though the instrument is reported to be occasionally used in hunting hares, jungle fowl, etc. Its days, however, must be counted as past. Tradition states that the instrument played a considerable part in the Poligar wars of the last century. But it now reposes peacefully in the households of the descendants of the rude Kallan and Maravan warriors, who plied it with such deadly effect in the last century, preserved as a sacred relic of a chivalric past along with other old family weapons in their pūja room, brought out and scraped and cleaned on occasions like the Ayudha pūja day (when worship is paid to weapons and implements of industry), and restored to its place of rest immediately afterwards.”

In connection with the ‘vellari thadi’ mentioned earlier, Dr. Oppert writes that “boomerangs are used by the Tamil Maravans and Kallans when hunting deer. The Madras Museum collection has three (two ivory, one wooden) from the Tanjore armory. The arsenal of the Pudukkōttai Rāja always keeps a supply of wooden boomerangs. Their name in Tamil is valai tadi (bent stick).” Regarding these boomerangs, the Dewān of Pudukkōttai tells me, “The valari or valai tadi is a short weapon, usually made from hard-grained wood, though it can also be made of iron. It is crescent-shaped, with one end heavier than the other, and the outer edge is sharpened. Trained men hold it by the lighter end, whirl it over their shoulders a few times to gain momentum, and then throw it with great force at their target. There were said to be experts in throwing the valari, who could take down small game and even a man in one throw. Such experts are no longer found in the State, though the tool is still occasionally used for hunting hares, jungle fowl, and so on. However, its days are numbered. Tradition says it played a significant role in the Poligar wars of the last century. Now it sits peacefully in the homes of the descendants of the rough Kallan and Maravan warriors who used it so effectively last century, kept as a sacred relic of a chivalrous past alongside other old family weapons in their pūja room, taken out to be cleaned and polished on occasions like Ayudha pūja day (when weapons and tools for work are worshipped), and then returned to its place immediately after.”

The sub-divisions of the Kallans, which were returned in greatest numbers at the census, 1891, were Īsanganādu (or Visangu-nādu), Kungiliyan, Mēnādu, Nāttu, Piramalainādu, and Sīrukudi. In the Census Report, 1901, it is recorded that “in Madura the Kallans are divided into ten main endogamous divisions47 which are territorial in origin. These are (1) Mēl-nādu, (2) Sīrukudi-nādu, (3) Vellūr-nādu, (4) Malla-kōttai nādu, (5) Pākanēri, (6) Kandramānikkam or Kunnan-kōttai nādu, (7) Kandadēvi, (8) Puramalai-nādu, (9) Tennilai-nādu, and (10) Pālaya-nādu. The headman of the Puramalai-nādu section is said to be installed by Idaiyans (herdsmen), but what the connection between the two castes may be [72]is not clear. The termination nādu means a country. These sections are further divided into exogamous sections called vaguppus. The Mēl-nādu Kallans have three sections called terus or streets, namely, Vadakku-teru (north street), Kilakku-teru (east street), and Tērku-teru (south street). The Sīrukudi Kallans have vaguppus named after the gods specially worshipped by each, such as Āndi, Mandai, Aiyanar, and Vīramāngāli. Among the Vellūr-nādu Kallans the names of these sections seem merely fanciful. Some of them are Vēngai puli (cruel-handed tiger), Vekkāli puli (cruel-legged tiger), Sāmi puli (holy tiger), Sem puli (red tiger), Sammatti makkal (hammer men), Tirumān (holy deer), and Sāyumpadai tāngi (supporter of the vanquished army). A section of the Tanjore Kallans names its sections from sundry high-sounding titles meaning King of the Pallavas, King of Tanjore, conqueror of the south, mighty ruler, and so on.”

The sub-divisions of the Kallans, which had the highest numbers in the 1891 census, included Īsanganādu (or Visangu-nādu), Kungiliyan, Mēnādu, Nāttu, Piramalainādu, and Sīrukudi. The Census Report of 1901 records that “in Madura, the Kallans are divided into ten main endogamous divisions47 that are based on territory. These are (1) Mēl-nādu, (2) Sīrukudi-nādu, (3) Vellūr-nādu, (4) Malla-kōttai nādu, (5) Pākanēri, (6) Kandramānikkam or Kunnan-kōttai nādu, (7) Kandadēvi, (8) Puramalai-nādu, (9) Tennilai-nādu, and (10) Pālaya-nādu. The headman of the Puramalai-nādu section is said to be appointed by Idaiyans (herdsmen), but the connection between the two castes [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] is not clear. The term nādu means a region. These sections are further divided into exogamous groups called vaguppus. The Mēl-nādu Kallans have three sections called terus or streets: Vadakku-teru (north street), Kilakku-teru (east street), and Tērku-teru (south street). The Sīrukudi Kallans have vaguppus named after the deities they particularly worship, such as Āndi, Mandai, Aiyanar, and Vīramāngāli. Among the Vellūr-nādu Kallans, the names of these sections seem to be quite imaginative. Some of them include Vēngai puli (cruel-handed tiger), Vekkāli puli (cruel-legged tiger), Sāmi puli (holy tiger), Sem puli (red tiger), Sammatti makkal (hammer men), Tirumān (holy deer), and Sāyumpadai tāngi (supporter of the defeated army). A section of the Tanjore Kallans names its divisions using various grand titles meaning King of the Pallavas, King of Tanjore, conqueror of the south, mighty ruler, and so on.

Portions of the Madura and Tanjore districts are divided into areas known as nādus, a name which, as observed by Mr. Nelson, is specially applicable to Kallan tracts. In each nādu a certain caste, called the Nāttan, is the predominant factor in the settlement of social questions which arise among the various castes living within the nādu. Round about Devakotta in the Sivaganga zamindari there are fourteen nādus, representatives of which meet once a year at Kandadēvi, to arrange for the annual festival at the temple dedicated to Swarnamurthi Swāmi. The four nādus Unjanai, Sembonmari, Iravaseri, and Tennilai in the same zamindari constitute a group, of which the last is considered the chief nādu, whereat caste questions must come up for settlement. For marriage purposes these four nādus constitute an endogamous section, which is sub-divided [73]into septs or karais. Among the Vallambans these karais are exogamous, and run in the male line. But, among the Kallans, the karai is recognised only in connection with property. A certain tract of land is the property of a particular karai, and the legal owners thereof are members of the same karai. When the land has to be disposed of, this can only be effected with the consent of representatives of the karai. The Nāttar Kallans of Sivaganga have exogamous septs called kīlai or branches, which, as among the Maravans, run in the female line, i.e., a child belongs to the mother’s, not the father’s, sept. In some castes, and even among Brāhmans, though contrary to strict rule, it is permissible for a man to marry his sister’s daughter. This is not possible among the Kallans who have kīlais such as those referred to, because the maternal uncle of a girl, the girl, and her mother all belong to the same sept. But the children of a brother and sister may marry, because they belong to different kīlais, i.e., those of their respective mothers.

Parts of the Madura and Tanjore districts are split into areas called nādus, a term that, according to Mr. Nelson, particularly applies to Kallan regions. In each nādu, a specific caste named the Nāttan plays a crucial role in settling social issues that come up among the various castes living in the nādu. Around Devakotta in the Sivaganga zamindari, there are fourteen nādus, whose representatives meet once a year at Kandadēvi to plan for the annual festival at the temple dedicated to Swarnamurthi Swāmi. The four nādus—Unjanai, Sembonmari, Iravaseri, and Tennilai—in the same zamindari form a group, with the last being considered the main nādu where caste matters need to be addressed. For marriage, these four nādus function as an endogamous section, which is further divided [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] into septs or karais. Among the Vallambans, these karais are exogamous and follow the male line. However, among the Kallans, the karai is recognized only in relation to property. A specific tract of land belongs to a particular karai, and the legal owners are members of that karai. When the land needs to be sold, this can only happen with the agreement of karai representatives. The Nāttar Kallans of Sivaganga have exogamous septs called kīlai or branches, which, like among the Maravans, adhere to the female line, meaning a child is part of the mother’s rather than the father’s sept. In some castes, even among Brāhmans, though it goes against strict rules, a man can marry his sister’s daughter. This is not allowed among the Kallans with kīlais like those mentioned because the maternal uncle of a girl, the girl herself, and her mother all belong to the same sept. However, the children of a brother and sister can marry because they fall under different kīlais, namely those of their respective mothers.

Example of allowable cousin-marriages.

In the above example, the girl Mināchi may not marry Karuppan, as both are members of the same kīlai. But she ought, though he be a mere boy, to marry Rāman, who belongs to a different sept. [74]

In the example above, the girl Mināchi might not marry Karuppan because they belong to the same kīlai. However, even though he is just a boy, she should marry Rāman, who is from a different sept. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

It is noted48 that, among the Sivaganga Kallans, “when a member of a certain kīlai dies, a piece of new cloth should be given to the other male member of the same kīlai by the heir of the deceased. The cloth thus obtained should be given to the sister of the person obtaining it. If her brother fails to do so, her husband will consider himself degraded, and consequently will divorce her.” Round about Pudukkōttai and Tanjore, the Visangu-nādu Kallans have exogamous septs called pattapēru, and they adopt the sept name as a title, e.g., Muthu Udaiyān, Karuppa Tondaman, etc. It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district, that the sub-divisions of the Kallans are split into groups, e.g., Onaiyan (wolfish), Singattān (lion-like), etc.

It’s noted48 that, among the Sivaganga Kallans, “when a member of a certain kīlai dies, a piece of new cloth should be given to the other male member of the same kīlai by the heir of the deceased. The cloth obtained should then be given to the sister of the person who received it. If her brother doesn't do this, her husband will feel dishonored and will end up divorcing her.” Around Pudukkōttai and Tanjore, the Visangu-nādu Kallans have exogamous septs called pattapēru, and they use the sept name as a title, e.g., Muthu Udaiyān, Karuppa Tondaman, etc. It is mentioned in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district that the sub-divisions of the Kallans are divided into groups, e.g., Onaiyan (wolfish), Singattān (lion-like), etc.

It is a curious fact that the Puramalai-nādu Kallans practice the rite of circumcision. The origin of this custom is uncertain, but it has been suggested49 that it is a survival of a forcible conversion to Muhammadanism of a section of the Kurumbas who fled northwards on the downfall of their kingdom. At the time appointed for the initiatory ceremony, the Kallan youth is carried on the shoulders of his maternal uncle to a grove or plain outside the village, where betel is distributed among those who have assembled, and the operation is performed by a barber-surgeon. En route to the selected site, and throughout the ceremony, the conch shell (musical instrument) is blown. The youth is presented with new cloths. It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “every Kallan boy has a right to claim the hand of his paternal aunt’s daughter in marriage. This aunt bears the expenses connected with his circumcision. Similarly, the maternal uncle pays the costs of the rites which are [75]observed when a girl attains maturity, for he has a claim on the girl as a bride for his son. The two ceremonies are performed at one time for large batches of boys and girls. On an auspicious day, the young people are all feasted, and dressed in their best, and repair to a river or tank (pond). The mothers of the girls make lamps of plantain leaves, and float them on the water, and the boys are operated on by the local barber.” It is stated, in the Census Report, 1901, that the Sīrukudi Kallans use a tāli, on which the Muhammadan badge of a crescent and star is engraved.

It’s an interesting fact that the Puramalai-nādu Kallans practice circumcision. The origin of this custom is unclear, but it’s been suggested that it’s a remnant of a forced conversion to Islam among a group of Kurumbas who fled north when their kingdom fell. During the initiation ceremony, the Kallan youth is carried on his maternal uncle’s shoulders to a grove or open area outside the village, where betel is shared among those gathered, and the procedure is performed by a barber-surgeon. On the way to the chosen location, and throughout the ceremony, a conch shell is blown. The youth receives new clothing. The Gazetteer of the Madura district notes that “every Kallan boy has the right to propose to his paternal aunt’s daughter in marriage. This aunt covers the expenses related to his circumcision. Likewise, the maternal uncle pays for the rites observed when a girl reaches maturity, as he has a claim on her as a bride for his son. Both ceremonies are conducted at the same time for large groups of boys and girls. On a lucky day, the young people are treated to a feast, dressed in their finest clothes, and head to a river or pond. The mothers of the girls make lamps from plantain leaves and float them on the water, while the local barber performs the operations on the boys.” According to the Census Report from 1901, the Sīrukudi Kallans use a tāli that has the Islamic symbols of a crescent moon and star engraved on it.

In connection with marriage among the Kallans, it is noted by Mr. S. M. Natesa Sastri50 that “at the Māttupongal feast, towards evening, festoons of aloe fibre and cloths containing coins are tied to the horns of bullocks and cows, and the animals are driven through the streets with tom-tom and music. In the villages, especially those inhabited by the Kallans in Madura and Tinnevelly, the maiden chooses as her husband him who has safely untied and brought to her the cloth tied to the horn of the fiercest bull. The animals are let loose with their horns containing valuables, amidst the din of tom-tom and harsh music, which terrifies and bewilders them. They run madly about, and are purposely excited by the crowd. A young Kalla will declare that he will run after such and such a bull—and this is sometimes a risky pursuit—and recover the valuables tied to its horn. The Kallan considers it a great disgrace to be injured while chasing the bull.”

In connection with marriage among the Kallans, Mr. S. M. Natesa Sastri notes that “at the Māttupongal feast, in the evening, decorations made of aloe fiber and cloths with coins are tied to the horns of bulls and cows, and the animals are paraded through the streets with drumbeats and music. In the villages, particularly those where the Kallans live in Madura and Tinnevelly, the bride selects her husband from the one who has bravely untied and brought her the cloth from the horn of the fiercest bull. The animals are let loose with their horns loaded with valuables, amid the noise of drums and loud music, which frightens and disorients them. They run wildly, and the crowd intentionally agitates them. A young Kalla will announce that he will chase after a specific bull—this can be a dangerous endeavor—and retrieve the valuables tied to its horn. The Kallan views it as a significant disgrace to get hurt while pursuing the bull.”

A poet of the early years of the present era, quoted by Mr. Kanakasabhai Pillai,51 describes this custom as practiced by the shepherd castes in those days. “A [76]large area of ground is enclosed with palisades and strong fences. Into the enclosure are brought ferocious bulls with sharpened horns. On a spacious loft, overlooking the enclosure, stand the shepherd girls, whom they intend to give away in marriage. The shepherd youths, prepared for the fight, first pray to their gods, whose images are placed under old banian or peepul trees, or at watering places. They then deck themselves with garlands made of the bright red flowers of the kānthal, and the purple flowers of the kāya. At a signal given by the beating of drums, the youths leap into the enclosure, and try to seize the bulls, which, frightened by the noise of the drums, are now ready to charge anyone who approaches them. Each youth approaches a bull, which he chooses to capture. But the bulls rush furiously, with tails raised, heads bent down, and horns levelled at their assailants. Some of the youths face the bulls boldly, and seize their horns. Some jump aside, and take hold of their tails. The more wary young men cling to the animals till they force them to fall on the ground. Many a luckless youth is now thrown down. Some escape without a scratch, while others are trampled upon or gored by the bulls. Some, though wounded and bleeding, again spring on the bulls. A few, who succeed in capturing the animals, are declared the victors of that day’s fight. The elders then announce that the bull-fight is over. The wounded are carried out of the enclosure, and attended to immediately, while the victors and the brides-elect repair to an adjoining grove, and there, forming into groups, dance joyously before preparing for their marriage.”

A poet from the early years of this era, quoted by Mr. Kanakasabhai Pillai, describes this custom practiced by the shepherd castes back then. “A [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]large area of land is enclosed with strong fences. Inside the enclosure, fierce bulls with sharpened horns are brought in. On a raised platform overlooking the area stand the shepherd girls, who are about to be given in marriage. The shepherd boys, ready for the fight, first pray to their gods, whose idols are placed under old banyan or peepul trees, or at watering holes. They then decorate themselves with garlands made from bright red kānthal flowers and purple kāya flowers. At a signal given by the sound of drums, the boys jump into the enclosure and try to catch the bulls, which, startled by the drum noise, are ready to charge anyone who gets close. Each boy approaches a bull that he chooses to catch. But the bulls charge fiercely, with their tails raised, heads down, and horns aimed at their attackers. Some boys face the bulls boldly and grab their horns. Others jump aside and grab their tails. The more cautious young men hold onto the animals until they manage to force them to the ground. Many an unfortunate boy gets thrown down. Some escape unharmed, while others get trampled or gored by the bulls. Some, even when wounded and bleeding, jump back on the bulls. A few who manage to catch the animals are declared the winners of that day’s fight. The elders then announce that the bullfight is over. The injured are carried out of the enclosure and treated immediately, while the winners and the brides-to-be go to a nearby grove and, forming groups, dance happily before preparing for their marriages.”

In an account of marriage among the Kallans, Mr. Nelson writes that “the most proper alliance in the opinion of a Kallan is one between a man and the [77]daughter of his father’s sister, and, if an individual have such a cousin, he must marry her, whatever disparity there may be between their respective ages. A boy of fifteen must marry such a cousin, even if she be thirty or forty years old, if her father insists upon his so doing. Failing a cousin of this sort, he must marry his aunt or his niece, or any near relative. If his father’s brother has a daughter, and insists upon him marrying her he cannot refuse; and this whatever may be the woman’s age. One of the customs of the western Kallans is specially curious. It constantly happens that a woman is the wife of ten, eight, six, or two husbands, who are held to be the fathers jointly and severally of any children that may be born of her body, and, still more curiously, when the children grow up they, for some unknown reason, invariably style themselves the children not of ten, eight or six fathers as the case may be, but of eight and two, six and two, or four and two fathers. When a wedding takes place, the sister of the bridegroom goes to the house of the parents of the bride, and presents them with twenty-one Kāli fanams (coins) and a cloth, and, at the same time, ties some horse-hair round the bride’s neck. She then brings her and her relatives to the house of the bridegroom, where a feast is prepared.

In a description of marriage practices among the Kallans, Mr. Nelson notes that “the ideal marriage, according to a Kallan, is between a man and the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]daughter of his father’s sister. If a person has such a cousin, he must marry her, regardless of any age difference. A fifteen-year-old boy must marry this cousin, even if she is thirty or forty, if her father insists. If he doesn’t have this cousin, he has to marry his aunt or niece, or another close relative. If his father’s brother has a daughter and insists on this marriage, he cannot say no, no matter how old she is. One particularly interesting custom of the western Kallans is that a woman can be married to ten, eight, six, or two husbands, all of whom are considered the fathers of any children she has. Even more intriguingly, as these children grow up, they always refer to themselves as the children of eight and two, six and two, or four and two fathers, rather than acknowledging all the fathers involved. During a wedding, the groom’s sister goes to the bride’s parents’ house and gives them twenty-one Kāli fanams (coins) and a cloth, while also tying some horsehair around the bride’s neck. She then brings the bride and her family to the groom’s house, where a feast is ready.”

Sheep are killed, and stores of liquor kept ready, and all partake of the good cheer provided. After this the bride and bridegroom are conducted to the house of the latter, and the ceremony of an exchange between them of vallari thadis or boomerangs is solemnly performed. Another feast is then given in the bride’s house, and the bride is presented by her parents with one markāl of rice and a hen. She then goes with her husband to his house. During the first twelve months after marriage, it is customary for the wife’s parents to [78]invite the pair to stay with them a day or two on the occasion of any feast, and to present them on their departure with a markāl of rice and a cock. At the time of the first Pongal feast after the marriage, the presents customarily given to the son-in-law are five markāls of rice, five loads of pots and pans, five bunches of plantains, five cocoanuts, and five lumps of jaggery (crude sugar). A divorce is easily obtained on either side. A husband dissatisfied with his wife can send her away if he be willing at the same time to give her half of his property, and a wife can leave her husband at will upon forfeiture of forty-two Kāli fanams. A widow may marry any man she fancies, if she can induce him to make her a present of ten fanams.”

Sheep are slaughtered, and supplies of alcohol are prepared, and everyone enjoys the abundant celebration. After this, the bride and groom are taken to the groom's house, where they ceremonially exchange vallari thadis, or boomerangs. Another feast then takes place at the bride's home, where her parents present her with one markāl of rice and a hen. She then moves in with her husband. For the first twelve months after the wedding, it's common for the bride's parents to invite the couple to stay with them for a day or two during any celebrations and to send them off with a markāl of rice and a rooster. During the first Pongal festival after the marriage, the customary gifts to the son-in-law include five markāls of rice, five sets of pots and pans, five bunches of plantains, five coconuts, and five pieces of jaggery (raw sugar). Divorce can be easily arranged by either party. If a husband is unhappy with his wife, he can send her away as long as he gives her half of his property, and a wife can leave her husband freely by forfeiting forty-two Kāli fanams. A widow can marry any man she likes if she can convince him to give her a gift of ten fanams.

In connection with the foregoing account, I am informed that, among the Nāttar Kallans, the brother of a married woman must give her annually at Pongal a present of rice, a goat, and a cloth until her death. The custom of exchanging boomerangs appears to be fast becoming a tradition. But, there is a common saying still current “Send the valari tadi, and bring the bride.” As regards the horse-hair, which is mentioned as being tied round the bride’s neck, I gather that, as a rule, the tāli is suspended from a cotton thread, and the horse-hair necklet may be worn by girls prior to puberty and marriage, and by widows. This form of necklet is also worn by females of other castes, such as Maravans, Valaiyans, and Morasa Paraiyans. Puramalai Kallan women can be distinguished by the triangular ornament, which is attached to the tāli string. It is stated, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “when a girl has attained maturity, she puts away the necklace of coloured beads she wore as a child, and dons the horse-hair necklet, which is characteristic of the Kallan woman. This [79]she retains till death, even if she becomes a widow. The richer Kallans substitute for the horse-hair a necklace of many strands of fine silver wire. In Tirumangalam, the women often hang round their necks a most curious brass and silver pendant, six or eight inches long, and elaborately worked.”

In relation to the previous account, I've learned that among the Nāttar Kallans, a brother of a married woman must give her a gift of rice, a goat, and a cloth each year at Pongal until she dies. The custom of exchanging boomerangs seems to be quickly becoming a tradition. However, a common saying still exists: “Send the valari tadi, and bring the bride.” Regarding the horse-hair that’s tied around the bride’s neck, I understand that typically, the tāli is hung from a cotton thread, and the horse-hair necklace can be worn by girls before puberty and marriage, as well as by widows. This type of necklace is also worn by women from other castes, such as Maravans, Valaiyans, and Morasa Paraiyans. Puramalai Kallan women can be recognized by the triangular ornament attached to the tāli string. According to the Gazetteer of the Madura district, “when a girl reaches maturity, she puts away the necklace of colored beads she wore as a child, and wears the horse-hair necklace which is typical of Kallan women. This [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is kept until death, even if she becomes a widow. Wealthier Kallans replace the horse-hair with a necklace made of many strands of fine silver wire. In Tirumangalam, women often wear a unique brass and silver pendant, six or eight inches long, that is intricately designed.”

It is noted in the Census Report, 1891, that as a token of divorce “a Kallan gives his wife a piece of straw in the presence of his caste people. In Tamil the expression ‘to give a straw’ means to divorce, and ‘to take a straw’ means to accept divorce.”

It is noted in the Census Report, 1891, that as a sign of divorce “a Kallan gives his wife a piece of straw in front of his community. In Tamil, the expression ‘to give a straw’ means to divorce, and ‘to take a straw’ means to accept divorce.”

In their marriage customs, some Kallans have adopted the Purānic form of rite owing to the influence of Brāhman purōhits, and, though adult marriage is the rule, some Brāhmanised Kallans have introduced infant marriage. To this the Puramalai section has a strong objection, as, from the time of marriage, they have to give annually till the birth of the first child a present of fowls, rice, a goat, jaggery, plantains, betel, turmeric, and condiments. By adult marriage the time during which this present has to be made is shortened, and less expenditure thereon is incurred. In connection with the marriage ceremonies as carried out by some Kallans, I gather that the consent of the maternal uncle of a girl to her marriage is essential. For the betrothal ceremony, the father and maternal uncle of the future bridegroom proceed to the girl’s house, where a feast is held, and the date fixed for the wedding written on two rolls of palm leaf dyed with turmeric or red paper, which are exchanged between the maternal uncles. On the wedding day, the sister of the bridegroom goes to the house of the bride, accompanied by women, some of whom carry flowers, cocoanuts, betel leaves, turmeric, leafy twigs of Sesbania grandiflora, [80]paddy (unhusked rice), milk, and ghī (clarified butter). A basket containing a female cloth, and the tāli string wrapped up in a red cloth borrowed from a washerman, is given to a sister of the bridegroom or to a woman belonging to his sept. On the way to the bride’s house, two of the women blow chank shells (musical instrument). The bride’s people question the bridegroom’s party as to his sept, and they ought to say that he belongs to Indra kūlam, Thalavala nādu, and Ahalya gōtra. The bridegroom’s sister, taking up the tāli, passes it round to be touched by all present, and ties the string, which is decorated with flowers, tightly round the bride’s neck amid the blowing of the conch shell. The bride is then conducted to the home of the bridegroom, whence they return to her house on the following day. The newly married couple sit on a plank, and coloured rice-balls or coloured water are waved, while women yell out “killa, illa, illa; killa, illa, illa.” This ceremony is called kulavi idal, and is sometimes performed by Kallan women during the tāli-tying.

In their marriage customs, some Kallans have adopted the Purānic style of rituals due to the influence of Brāhman priests. Although adult marriage is the norm, some Brāhmanized Kallans have introduced child marriage. The Puramalai group strongly opposes this because, from the time of marriage until the first child is born, they have to give gifts each year, including chickens, rice, a goat, jaggery, plantains, betel, turmeric, and spices. With adult marriage, the time during which these gifts must be given is shorter, resulting in lower expenses. Regarding the marriage ceremonies performed by some Kallans, it is crucial to get the consent of the girl's maternal uncle for her marriage. During the betrothal ceremony, the father and maternal uncle of the future groom go to the girl's house, where a feast is held, and the wedding date is written on two rolls of palm leaf dyed with turmeric or red paper, which are exchanged between the maternal uncles. On the wedding day, the groom's sister goes to the bride's house with women, some of whom carry flowers, coconuts, betel leaves, turmeric, leafy twigs of Sesbania grandiflora, unhusked rice, milk, and ghee (clarified butter). A basket containing a female cloth and the tāli string wrapped in red cloth borrowed from a washerman is given to a sister of the groom or to a woman from his family. On the way to the bride's house, two women play chank shells (musical instruments). The bride's family asks questions about the groom's family, and they should respond that he belongs to Indra kūlam, Thalavala nādu, and Ahalya gōtra. The groom's sister takes the tāli, passes it around for everyone to touch, and ties the decorated string tightly around the bride's neck while the conch shell is blown. The bride is then taken to the groom's home, and they return to her house the next day. The newlyweds sit on a plank, and colored rice balls or colored water are waved, while women chant “killa, illa, illa; killa, illa, illa.” This ceremony is called kulavi idal and is sometimes performed by Kallan women during the tāli-tying.

The following details relating to the marriage ceremonies are recorded in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district. “The arrival of the bridegroom has been described as being sometimes especially ceremonious. Mounted on a horse, and attended by his maternal uncle, he is met by a youth from the bride’s house, also mounted, who conducts the visitors to the marriage booth. Here he is given betel leaves, areca nuts, and a rupee by the bride’s father, and his feet are washed in milk and water, and adorned with toe-rings by the bride’s mother. The tāli is suspended from a necklet of gold or silver instead of cotton thread, but this is afterwards changed to cotton for fear of offending the god Karuppan. A lamp is often held by the bridegroom’s sister, or some [81]married woman, while the tāli is being tied. This is left unlighted by the Kallans for fear it should go out, and thus cause an evil omen. The marriage tie is in some localities very loose. Even a woman who has borne her husband many children may leave him if she likes, to seek a second husband, on condition that she pays him her marriage expenses. In this case (as also when widows are remarried), the children are left in the late husband’s house. The freedom of the Kallan women in these matters is noticed in the proverb that, “though there may be no thread in the spinning-rod, there will always be a (tāli) thread on the neck of a Kallan woman,” or that “though other threads fail, the thread of a Kallan woman will never do so.”

The following details about the marriage ceremonies are recorded in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district. “The arrival of the groom is sometimes particularly festive. Riding a horse and accompanied by his maternal uncle, he is greeted by a young man from the bride’s family, who is also on horseback. This young man leads the guests to the wedding booth. There, the bride’s father offers him betel leaves, areca nuts, and a rupee, while the bride’s mother washes his feet in milk and water and adorns them with toe rings. The tāli is tied with a gold or silver necklace instead of cotton thread, but this is later switched to cotton to avoid offending the god Karuppan. A lamp is often held by the groom’s sister or another married woman during the tying of the tāli. However, it remains unlit by the Kallans to prevent it from going out, which would be considered an ill omen. The marriage bond in some areas is quite flexible. Even a woman who has had several children with her husband can leave him for another if she pays him back for her marriage expenses. In such cases (as well as when widows remarry), the children stay with the late husband’s family. The independence of Kallan women in these situations is reflected in the saying, “even if there’s no thread on the spinning rod, there will always be a (tāli) thread around a Kallan woman’s neck,” or that “while other threads may break, the thread of a Kallan woman will never fail.”

By some Kallans pollution is, on the occasion of the first menstrual period, observed for seven or nine days. On the sixteenth day, the maternal uncle of the girl brings a sheep or goat, and rice. She is bathed and decorated, and sits on a plank while a vessel of water, coloured rice, and a measure filled with paddy with a style bearing a betel leaf struck on it, are waved before her. Her head, knees, and shoulders are touched with cakes, which are then thrown away. A woman, conducting the girl round the plank, pours water from a vessel on to a betel leaf held in her hand, so that it falls on the ground at the four cardinal points of the compass, which the girl salutes.

By some Kallans, pollution is observed for seven or nine days during the first menstrual period. On the sixteenth day, the girl's maternal uncle brings a sheep or goat and rice. She is bathed and decorated, then sits on a plank while someone waves a vessel of water, colored rice, and a container filled with paddy that has a betel leaf placed on it in front of her. Her head, knees, and shoulders are touched with cakes, which are then discarded. A woman leading the girl around the plank pours water from a vessel onto a betel leaf held in her hand, allowing it to spill onto the ground at the four cardinal points, which the girl bows to.

A ceremony is generally celebrated in the seventh month of pregnancy, for which the husband’s sister prepares pongal (cooked rice). The pregnant woman sits on a plank, and the rice is waved before her. She then stands up, and bends down while her sister-in-law pours milk from a betel or pīpal (Ficus religiosa) leaf on her back. A feast brings the ceremony to a close. Among [82]the Vellūr-nādu Kallans patterns are said52 to be drawn on the back of the pregnant woman with rice-flour, and milk is poured over them. The husband’s sister decorates a grindstone in the same way, invokes a blessing on the woman, and expresses a hope that she may have a male child as strong as a stone.

A ceremony is usually held in the seventh month of pregnancy, during which the husband’s sister prepares pongal (cooked rice). The pregnant woman sits on a plank, and the rice is waved in front of her. She then stands up and bends down while her sister-in-law pours milk from a betel or pīpal (Ficus religiosa) leaf onto her back. A feast marks the end of the ceremony. Among [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the Vellūr-nādu Kallans, patterns are said52 to be drawn on the back of the pregnant woman with rice flour, and milk is poured over them. The husband’s sister decorates a grindstone in the same way, invokes a blessing for the woman, and expresses hope that she may have a male child as strong as a stone.

When a child is born in a family, the entire family observes pollution for thirty days, during which entrance into a temple is forbidden. Among the Nāttar Kallans, children are said to be named at any time after they are a month old. But, among the Puramalai Kallans, a first-born female child is named on the seventh day, after the ear-boring ceremony has been performed. “All Kallans,” Mr. Francis writes,52 “put on sacred ashes, the usual mark of a Saivite, on festive occasions, but they are nevertheless generally Vaishnavites. The dead are usually buried, and it is said that, at funerals, cheroots are handed round, which those present smoke while the ceremony proceeds.” Some Kallans are said,53 when a death occurs in a family, to put a pot filled with dung or water, a broomstick, and a fire-brand at some place where three roads meet, or in front of the house, in order to prevent the ghost from returning.

When a baby is born in a family, the whole family goes through a period of pollution for thirty days, during which they aren't allowed to enter a temple. Among the Nāttar Kallans, babies can be named any time after they are a month old. However, for the Puramalai Kallans, a first-born girl is named on the seventh day, following the ear-piercing ceremony. “All Kallans,” Mr. Francis writes,52 “wear sacred ashes, the traditional mark of a Saivite, during festive occasions, but they are mostly Vaishnavites. The deceased are typically buried, and it's said that at funerals, cheroots are passed around for attendees to smoke during the ceremony.” Some Kallans are said,53 when a death happens in a family, to place a pot filled with dung or water, a broomstick, and a firebrand at a spot where three roads meet, or in front of the house, to keep the ghost from coming back.

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “the Kilnād Kallans usually bury their dead. Lamps are periodically lighted on the tomb, and it is whitewashed annually. The Piramalainād division usually burn the dead. If a woman dies when with child, the baby is taken out, and placed alongside her on the pyre. This, it may be noted, is the rule with most castes in this district, and, in some communities, the relations afterwards put up a stone burden-rest by the side of a [83]road, the idea being that the woman died with her burden, and so her spirit rejoices to see others lightened of theirs. Tradition says that the caste came originally from the north. The dead are buried with their faces laid in that direction; and, when pūja is done to Karuppanaswāmi, the caste god, the worshippers turn to the north.”

It’s recorded in the Gazetteer of the Madura district that “the Kilnād Kallans typically bury their dead. Lamps are lit periodically on the tomb, and it’s whitewashed every year. The Piramalainād division generally cremates the dead. If a woman dies while pregnant, the baby is taken out and placed beside her on the pyre. This is the practice for most castes in this district, and in some communities, the relatives afterwards set up a stone burden-rest next to a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]road, based on the idea that the woman died with her burden, so her spirit finds joy in seeing others relieved of theirs. Tradition says that the caste originally came from the north. The dead are buried with their faces facing that direction; and when pūja is performed for Karuppanaswāmi, the caste god, the worshippers face north.”

According to Mr. H. A. Stuart54 “the Kallans are nominally Saivites, but in reality the essence of their religious belief is devil-worship. Their chief deity is Alagarswāmi, the god of the great Alagar Kōvil twelve miles to the north of the town of Madura. To this temple they make large offerings, and the Swāmi, called Kalla Alagar, has always been regarded as their own peculiar deity.” The Kallans are said by Mr. Mullaly to observe omens, and consult their household gods before starting on depredations. “Two flowers, the one red and the other white, are placed before the idol, a symbol of their god Kalla Alagar. The white flower is the emblem of success. A child of tender years is told to pluck a petal of one of the two flowers, and the undertaking rests upon the choice made by the child.” In like manner, when a marriage is contemplated among the Idaiyans, the parents of the prospective bride and bridegroom go to the temple, and throw before the idol a red and white flower, each wrapped in a betel leaf. A small child is then told to pick up one of the leaves. If the one selected contains the white flower, it is considered auspicious, and the marriage will take place.

According to Mr. H. A. Stuart54 “the Kallans are nominally Saivites, but the core of their religious belief is actually devil-worship. Their main deity is Alagarswāmi, the god of the prominent Alagar Kōvil located twelve miles north of the town of Madura. They make large offerings at this temple, and the Swāmi, referred to as Kalla Alagar, has always been viewed as their unique deity.” Mr. Mullaly mentions that the Kallans pay attention to omens and consult their household gods before embarking on raids. “Two flowers, one red and the other white, are placed in front of the idol, symbolizing their god Kalla Alagar. The white flower represents success. A young child is asked to pluck a petal from one of the two flowers, and the outcome of the endeavor depends on the child's choice.” Similarly, when considering a marriage among the Idaiyans, the parents of the potential bride and groom visit the temple and place a red and white flower in front of the idol, each wrapped in a betel leaf. A small child is then instructed to pick up one of the leaves. If the selected one contains the white flower, it is seen as a good omen, and the marriage will proceed.

In connection with the Alagar Kōvil, I gather55 that, when oaths are to be taken, the person who is to swear is asked to worship Kallar Alagar, and, with [84]a parivattam (cloth worn as a mark of respect in the presence of the god) on his head, and a garland round his neck, should stand on the eighteenth step of the eighteen steps of Karuppanaswāmi, and say: “I swear before Kallar Alagar and Karuppannaswāmi that I have acted rightly, and so on. If the person swears falsely, he dies on the third day; if truly the other person meets with the same fate.”

In relation to the Alagar Kōvil, I understand that when an oath is to be taken, the person swearing is asked to worship Kallar Alagar. With [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] a parivattam (a cloth worn as a mark of respect in the presence of the god) on their head and a garland around their neck, they should stand on the eighteenth step of the eighteen steps of Karuppanaswāmi and say: “I swear before Kallar Alagar and Karuppanaswāmi that I have acted rightly, and so on. If the person swears falsely, they will die on the third day; if they are truthful, the other person will meet the same fate.”

It was noted by Mr. M. J. Walhouse,56 that “at the bull games (jellikattu) at Dindigul, the Kallans can alone officiate as priests, and consult the presiding deity. On this occasion they hold quite a Saturnalia of lordship and arrogance over the Brāhmans.” It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “the keenness of the more virile sections of the community (especially the Kallans), in this game, is extraordinary, and, in many villages, cattle are bred and reared specially for it. The best jallikats are to be seen in the Kallan country in Tirumangalam, and next come those in Mēlūr and Madura tāluks.” (See also Maravan.)

It was noted by Mr. M. J. Walhouse, 56 that “at the bull games (jellikattu) in Dindigul, only the Kallans can act as priests and consult the main deity. During this time, they exhibit a significant display of authority and arrogance over the Brāhmans.” The Gazetteer of the Madura district states that “the enthusiasm of the more vigorous members of the community (especially the Kallans) for this game is remarkable, and in many villages, cattle are specifically bred and raised for it. The best jallikats are found in the Kallan area of Tirumangalam, followed by those in Mēlūr and Madura tāluks.” (See also Maravan.)

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that Karuppan is “essentially the god of the Kallans, especially of the Kallans of the Mēlūr side. In those parts, his shrine is usually the Kallans’ chāvadi (assembly place). His priests are usually Kallans or Kusavans. Alagarswāmi (the beautiful god) is held in special veneration by the Kallans, and is often popularly called the Kallar Alagar. The men of this caste have the right to drag his car at the car festival, and, when he goes (from Alagar Kōvil) on his visit to Madura, he is dressed as a Kallan, exhibits the long ears characteristic of that caste, and carries the boomerang and club, which [85]were of their old favourite weapons. It is whispered that Kallan dacoits invoke his aid when they are setting out on marauding expeditions, and, if they are successful therein, put part of their ill-gotten gains into the offertory (undial) box, which is kept at his shrine.”

It’s noted in the Gazetteer of the Madura district that Karuppan is “essentially the god of the Kallans, especially of the Kallans from the Mēlūr area. In these regions, his shrine usually serves as the Kallans’ chāvadi (assembly place). His priests are typically Kallans or Kusavans. Alagarswāmi (the beautiful god) is highly revered by the Kallans and is often referred to as the Kallar Alagar. The men from this caste have the right to pull his chariot during the car festival, and when he visits Madura (from Alagar Kōvil), he is dressed like a Kallan, displays the long ears typical of that caste, and carries the boomerang and club, which were their traditional weapons. It’s said that Kallan thieves call on his help when they set out on their looting trips, and if they succeed, they drop part of their stolen profits into the offertory (undial) box at his shrine.”

For the following note I am indebted to the Rev. J. Sharrock. “The chief temple of the Kallans is about ten miles west of Madura, and is dedicated to Alagarswāmi, said to be an incarnation of Vishnu, but also said to be the brother of Mīnātchi (the fish-eyed or beautiful daughter of the Pāndya king of Madura). Now Mīnātchi has been married by the Brāhmans to Siva, and so we see Hinduism wedded to Dravidianism, and the spirit of compromise, the chief method of conversion adopted by the Brāhmans, carried to its utmost limit. At the great annual festival, the idol of Alagarswāmi is carried, in the month of Chittra (April-May), to the temple of Mīnātchi, and the banks of the river Vaiga swarm with two to three lakhs57 of worshippers, a large proportion of whom are Kallans. At this festival, the Kallans have the right of dragging with a rope the car of Alagarswāmi, though other people may join in later on. As Alagarswāmi is a vegetarian, no blood sacrifice is offered to him. This is probably due to the influence of Brāhmanism, for, in their ordinary ceremonies, the Kallans invariably slaughter sheep as sacrifices to propitiate their deities. True to their bold and thievish instincts, the Kallans do not hesitate to steal a god, if they think he will be of use to them in their predatory excursions,58 and are not afraid to dig up the coins or jewels that are generally buried under an idol. Though they entertain little dread of their [86]own village gods, they are often afraid of others that they meet far from home, or in the jungles when they are engaged in one of their stealing expeditions. As regards their own village gods, there is a sort of understanding that, if they help them in their thefts, they are to have a fair share of the spoil, and, on the principle of honesty among thieves, the bargain is always kept. At the annual festival for the village deities, each family sacrifices a sheep, and the head of the victim is given to the pūjāri (priest), while the body is taken home by the donor, and partaken of as a communion feast. Two at least of the elements of totem worship appear here: there is the shedding of the sacrificial blood of an innocent victim to appease the wrath of the totem god, and the common feasting together which follows it. The Brāhmans sometimes join in these sacrifices, but of course take no part of the victim, the whole being the perquisite of the pūjāri, and there is no common participation in the meal. When strange deities are met with by the Kallans on their thieving expeditions, it is usual to make a vow that, if the adventure turns out well, part of the spoil shall next day be left at the shrine of the god, or be handed over to the pūjāri of that particular deity. They are afraid that, if this precaution be not taken, the god may make them blind, or cause them to be discovered, or may go so far as to knock them down, and leave them to bleed to death. If they have seen the deity, or been particularly frightened or otherwise specially affected by these unknown gods, instead of leaving a part of the body, they adopt a more thorough method of satisfying the same. After a few days they return at midnight to make a special sacrifice, which of course is conducted by the particular pūjāri, whose god is to be appeased. They bring a sheep with rice, [87]curry-stuffs and liquors, and, after the sacrifice, give a considerable share of these dainties, together with the animal’s head, to the pūjāri, as well as a sum of money for making the pūja (worship) for them. Some of the ceremonies are worth recording. First the idol is washed in water, and a sandal spot is put on the forehead in the case of male deities, and a kunkuma spot in the case of females. Garlands are placed round the neck, and the bell is rung, while lamps are lighted all about. Then the deity’s name is repeatedly invoked, accompanied by beating on the udukku. This is a small drum which tapers to a narrow waist in the middle, and is held in the left hand of the pūjāri with one end close to his left ear, while he taps on it with the fingers of his right hand. Not only is this primitive music pleasing to the ears of his barbarous audience, but, what is more important, it conveys the oracular communications of the god himself. By means of the end of the drum placed close to his ear, the pūjāri is enabled to hear what the god has to say of the predatory excursion which has taken place, and the pūjāri (who, like a clever gypsy, has taken care previously to get as much information of what has happened as possible) retails all that has occurred during the exploit to his wondering devotees. In case his information is incomplete, he is easily able to find out, by a few leading questions and a little cross-examination of these ignorant people, all that he needs to impress them with the idea that the god knows all about their transactions, having been present at their plundering bout. At all such sacrifices, it is a common custom to pour a little water over the sheep, to see if it will shake itself, this being invariably a sign of the deity’s acceptance of the animal offered. In some sacrifices, if the sheep does not shake [88]itself, it is rejected, and another substituted for it; and, in some cases (be it whispered, when the pūjāri thinks the sheep too thin and scraggy), he pours over it only a little water, and so demands another animal. If, however, the pūjāri, as the god’s representative, is satisfied, he goes on pouring more and more water till the half-drenched animal has to shake itself, and so signs its own death-warrant. All who have ventured forth in the night to take part in the sacrifice then join together in the communal meal. An illustration of the value of sacrifices may here be quoted, to show how little value may be attached to an oath made in the presence of a god. Some pannaikārans (servants) of a Kallan land-owner one day stole a sheep, for which they were brought up before the village munsif. When they denied the theft, the munsif took them to their village god, Karuppan (the black brother), and made them swear in its presence. They perjured themselves again, and were let off. Their master quietly questioned them afterwards, asking them how they dared swear so falsely before their own god, and to this they replied ‘While we were swearing, we were mentally offering a sacrifice to him of a sheep’ (which they subsequently carried out), to pacify him for the double crime of stealing and perjury.”

For the following note, I am grateful to Rev. J. Sharrock. “The main temple of the Kallans is about ten miles west of Madura and is dedicated to Alagarswāmi, who is considered an incarnation of Vishnu, but is also said to be the brother of Mīnātchi (the fish-eyed or beautiful daughter of the Pāndya king of Madura). Mīnātchi has been married by the Brāhmans to Siva, illustrating the blend of Hinduism with Dravidian culture, showcasing the spirit of compromise, which is the primary method of conversion used by Brāhmans, taken to its fullest extent. During the grand annual festival, the idol of Alagarswāmi is brought, in the month of Chittra (April-May), to the temple of Mīnātchi, and the banks of the river Vaiga are crowded with two to three lakhs of worshippers, a significant number of whom are Kallans. At this festival, the Kallans have the right to drag Alagarswāmi's chariot with a rope, although others can join in later. Since Alagarswāmi is vegetarian, no blood sacrifices are made to him. This is likely influenced by Brāhmanism, as the Kallans typically slaughter sheep as offerings to appease their deities in their regular ceremonies. True to their bold and thieving nature, the Kallans readily steal a god if they believe it will aid them in their thefts, and they have no qualms about digging up the coins or jewels often buried under an idol. While they feel little fear of their own village gods, they are often apprehensive about encountering others in unfamiliar places or in the jungles during their stealing missions. Regarding their own village gods, there is an understanding that if they assist them in theft, they are entitled to a fair share of the loot, and, adhering to the principle of honesty among thieves, this agreement is always honored. During the annual festival for the village deities, each family offers a sheep, with the head given to the pūjāri (priest) while the body is taken home by the donor to be shared as a communal feast. Two elements of totem worship are visible here: the shedding of the sacrificial blood of an innocent victim to appease the totem god's anger and the collective feast that follows. The Brāhmans sometimes participate in these sacrifices but, of course, take no part of the victim, which is entirely the pūjāri's prerogative, and there is no shared meal. When Kallans encounter unfamiliar deities during their thefts, they usually vow that if their adventure goes well, a portion of the spoils will be left at the shrine of the god or given to that deity’s pūjāri the next day. They believe that failing to do so may lead to blindness, discovery, or even death. If they have seen the deity or felt particularly scared or affected by these unknown gods, instead of leaving a part of the body, they take a more thorough approach to make amends. After a few days, they return at midnight to make a special sacrifice, conducted by the respective pūjāri aimed at appeasing that particular god. They bring a sheep along with rice, curry ingredients, and drinks, and after the sacrifice, they give a significant share of these offerings, along with the sheep's head, to the pūjāri, plus a monetary gift for performing the pūja (worship) for them. Some rituals are noteworthy. First, the idol is washed in water, and a sandal mark is placed on the forehead for male deities, and a kunkuma mark for females. Garlands are draped around the neck, bells are rung, and lamps are lit all around. Then the deity’s name is repeatedly called, accompanied by the beating of the udukku. This small drum narrows in the middle and is held in the pūjāri's left hand, with one end close to his left ear, while he taps it with his right fingers. This primitive music not only pleases his rough audience but also conveys the divine communications from the god. The pūjāri can hear what the god has to say about the recent theft, and he shares all the details with his fascinated devotees, having gathered as much information beforehand like a clever gypsy. If his information is lacking, he can easily uncover what he needs by asking leading questions and interrogating these uninformed people, leaving them with the impression that the god is fully aware of their activities, having witnessed their plunder. During these sacrifices, it’s customary to pour a little water over the sheep to see if it shakes itself, as that is always a sign of the deity’s acceptance of the offering. In some rituals, if the sheep doesn’t shake itself, it is rejected and replaced with another; and in some cases (if the pūjāri thinks the sheep is too thin), he pours only a little water over it and demands a different animal. If the pūjāri, as the god’s representative, is satisfied, he continues pouring more water until the soaked animal shakes itself, sealing its fate. Everyone who has participated in the night’s sacrifice then comes together for a communal meal. A testament to the value of sacrifices can be highlighted, showing how little weight might be given to an oath made in the presence of a god. One day, some pannaikārans (servants) of a Kallan landowner stole a sheep and were brought before the village munsif. When they denied the theft, the munsif took them to their village god, Karuppan (the black brother), and made them swear in his presence. They perjured themselves again and were let off. Their master later asked how they dared to lie before their own god, to which they replied, ‘While we were swearing, we were mentally offering a sacrifice of a sheep to him’ (which they carried out later) to appease him for the double offenses of theft and perjury.”

As a typical example of devil worship, the practice of the Valaiyans and Kallans of Orattanādu in the Tanjore district is described by Mr. F. R. Hemingway.59 “Valaiyan houses have generally an odiyan (Odina Wodier) tree in the backyard, wherein the devils are believed to live, and among Kallans every street has a tree for their accommodation. They are propitiated [89]at least once a year, the more virulent under the tree itself, and the rest in the house, generally on a Friday or Monday. Kallans attach importance to Friday in Ādi (July and August), the cattle Pongal day in Tai (January and February), and Kartigai day in the month Kartigai (November and December). A man, with his mouth covered with a cloth to indicate silence and purity, cooks rice in the backyard, and pours it out in front of the tree, mixed with milk and jaggery (crude sugar). Cocoanuts and toddy are also placed there. These are offered to the devils, represented in the form of bricks or mud images placed at the foot of the tree, and camphor is set alight. A sheep is then brought and slaughtered, and the devils are supposed to spring one after another from the tree into one of the bystanders. This man then becomes filled with the divine afflatus, works himself up into a kind of frenzy, becomes the mouthpiece of the spirits, pronounces their satisfaction or the reverse at the offerings, and gives utterance to cryptic phrases, which are held to foretell good or evil fortune to those in answer to whom they are made. When all the devils in turn have spoken and vanished, the man recovers his senses. The devils are worshipped in the same way in the houses, except that no blood is shed. All alike are propitiated by animal sacrifices.”

As a typical example of devil worship, the practice of the Valaiyans and Kallans of Orattanādu in the Tanjore district is described by Mr. F. R. Hemingway.59 “Valaiyan homes usually have an odiyan (Odina Wodier) tree in the backyard, where the devils are believed to reside, and every street among Kallans has a tree for their shelter. They are appeased [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] at least once a year, with the more aggressive offerings made directly under the tree, while the others take place in the house, typically on a Friday or Monday. Kallans place significant importance on Fridays in Ādi (July and August), the cattle Pongal day in Tai (January and February), and Kartigai day in the month of Kartigai (November and December). A man, with his mouth covered by a cloth to signify silence and purity, cooks rice in the backyard and pours it out in front of the tree, mixed with milk and jaggery (raw sugar). Coconuts and toddy are also placed there. These offerings are given to the devils, represented in the form of bricks or mud images placed at the foot of the tree, and camphor is lit. A sheep is then brought and sacrificed, and the devils are believed to leap one by one from the tree and possess one of the bystanders. This person then becomes filled with a divine spirit, works themselves into a kind of frenzy, acts as the voice of the spirits, shares their approval or disapproval of the offerings, and utters cryptic phrases that are thought to predict good or bad fortune for those being addressed. When all the devils have spoken and disappeared, the person regains their senses. The devils are worshipped in the same way inside homes, except that no blood is shed. All are appeased through animal sacrifices.”

The Kallans are stated by Mr. Hemingway to be very fond of bull-baiting. This is of two kinds. The first resembles the game played by other castes, except that the Kallans train their animals for the sport, and have regular meetings, at which all the villagers congregate. These begin at Pongal, and go on till the end of May. The sport is called tolu mādu (byre bull). The best animals for it are the Pulikkolam bulls from the [90]Madura district. The other game is called pāchal mādu (leaping bull). In this, the animals are tethered to a long rope, and the object of the competition is to throw the animal, and keep it down. A bull which is good at the game, and difficult to throw, fetches a very high price.

The Kallans are said by Mr. Hemingway to really enjoy bull-baiting. There are two types of this sport. The first is similar to the game played by other groups, except that the Kallans train their animals for it and hold regular gatherings where all the villagers come together. These events start at Pongal and continue until the end of May. The sport is called tolu mādu (byre bull). The best animals for it are the Pulikkolam bulls from the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Madura district. The other type of game is called pāchal mādu (leaping bull). In this one, the animals are tied to a long rope, and the aim of the competition is to throw the animal and keep it down. A bull that excels at this game and is hard to throw can fetch a very high price.

It is noted in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district, that “the Kallans have village caste panchayats (councils) of the usual kind, but in some places they are discontinuing these in imitation of the Vellālans. According to the account given at Orattanādu, the members of Ambalakāran families sit by hereditary right as Kāryastans or advisers to the headman in each village. One of these households is considered superior to the others, and one of its members is the headman (Ambalakāran) proper. The headmen of the panchayats of villages which adjoin meet to form a further panchayat to decide on matters common to them generally. In Kallan villages, the Kallan headman often decides disputes between members of other lower castes, and inflicts fines on the party at fault.”

It is noted in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district that “the Kallans have village caste councils (panchayats) like the usual ones, but in some areas, they are discontinuing these to model themselves after the Vellālans. According to the account given at Orattanādu, members of Ambalakāran families have the hereditary right to serve as Kāryastans or advisers to the headman in each village. One of these families is seen as superior to the others, and one of its members is the official headman (Ambalakāran). The headmen of neighboring villages meet to create a larger panchayat to address issues that affect them collectively. In Kallan villages, the Kallan headman often resolves disputes between members of lower castes and imposes fines on the party at fault.”

In the Gazetteer, of the Madura district, it is recorded that “the organization of the Kilnād Kallans differs from that of their brethren beyond the hills. Among the former, an hereditary headman, called the Ambalakāran, rules in almost every village. He receives small fees at domestic ceremonies, is entitled to the first betel and nut, and settles caste disputes. Fines inflicted are credited to the caste fund. The western Kallans are under a more monarchial rule, an hereditary headman called Tirumala Pinnai Tēvan deciding most caste matters. He is said to get this hereditary name from the fact that his ancestor was appointed (with three co-adjutors) by King Tirumala Nāyakkan, and given [91]many insignia of office including a state palanquin. If any one declines to abide by his decision, excommunication is pronounced by the ceremony of ‘placing the thorn,’ which consists in laying a thorny branch across the threshold of the recalcitrant party’s house, to signify that, for his contumacy, his property will go to ruin and be overrun with jungle. The removal of the thorn, and the restitution of the sinner to Kallan society can only be procured by abject apologies to Pinnai Tēvan.”

In the Gazetteer of the Madura district, it states that “the organization of the Kilnād Kallans is different from that of their relatives across the hills. In the former group, an hereditary leader, called the Ambalakāran, governs almost every village. He collects small fees during family ceremonies, gets the first betel and nut, and resolves caste disputes. Fines that are imposed go into the caste fund. The western Kallans operate under a more monarchial system, with an hereditary leader named Tirumala Pinnai Tēvan making most caste decisions. It is said he got his hereditary title because his ancestor was appointed (along with three assistants) by King Tirumala Nāyakkan and given [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] various symbols of authority, including a ceremonial palanquin. If someone refuses to follow his ruling, they are excommunicated through a ceremony called ‘placing the thorn,’ which involves laying a thorny branch across the threshold of the person’s house to indicate that, due to their defiance, their property will deteriorate and become overgrown with weeds. To remove the thorn and restore the individual to Kallan society, they must offer sincere apologies to Pinnai Tēvan.”

The usual title of the Kallans is Ambalakāran (president of an assembly), but some, like the Maravans and Agamudaiyans, style themselves Tēvan (god) or Sērvaikkāran (commander).60

The typical title for the Kallans is Ambalakāran (president of an assembly), but some, such as the Maravans and Agamudaiyans, refer to themselves as Tēvan (god) or Sērvaikkāran (commander).60

Kallankanadōru (stone).—A sub-division of Kōmati, said to be descended from those who sat on the stone (kallu) mantapa outside the Penukonda Kanyakamma temple, when the question whether to enter the fire-pits or not was being discussed by the caste elders.

Kallankanadōru (stone).—A subgroup of Kōmati, believed to be descended from those who sat on the stone (kallu) mantapa outside the Penukonda Kanyakamma temple, during the discussions among the caste elders about whether to enter the fire-pits or not.

Kallan Mūppan.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, Kallan Mūppan is returned as “a sub-caste of the Malabar Kammālans, the members of which are stone-workers.” A correspondent writes to me that, “while the Kammālans are a polluting and polyandrous class, the Kallan Mūppans are allowed to enter the outside enclosure of temples. They do not remarry their widows, and are strictly monogamous. Their purōhits are Tamil barbers, who officiate at their marriages. The barber shaves the bridegroom before the wedding ceremony. The purōhit has also to blow the conch-shell all the way from the bridegroom’s house to that of the bride.” [92]

Kallan Mūppan.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, Kallan Mūppan is listed as "a sub-caste of the Malabar Kammālans, whose members are stone-workers." A correspondent informs me that, "while the Kammālans are seen as a polluting and polyandrous group, the Kallan Mūppans are permitted to enter the outer area of temples. They do not remarry their widows and are strictly monogamous. Their priests are Tamil barbers, who conduct their marriages. The barber shaves the groom before the wedding ceremony. The priest also has to blow the conch shell all the way from the groom's house to the bride's." [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The names Kallan and Kalkōtti are also those by which the Malabar stone-masons are known.

The names Kallan and Kalkōtti are also how the Malabar stone-masons are known.

Kallangi.—Kallangi and Kallavēli (Kallan’s fence) are fanciful names, returned by Pallis at times of census.

Kallangi.—Kallangi and Kallavēli (Kallan’s fence) are imaginative names, provided by Pallis during census times.

Kallasāri (stone-workers).—The occupational name of a sub-division of Malayālam Kammālans.

Kallasāri (stone-workers).—The job title of a sub-group of Malayālam Kammālans.

Kallātakurup.—A sub-division of Ambalavāsis, who sing in Bhagavati temples. They play on a stringed instrument, called nandurini, with two strings and a number of wooden stops glued on to the long handle, and a wooden plectrum.

Kallātakurup.—A subgroup of Ambalavāsis, who sing in Bhagavati temples. They play a stringed instrument called the nandurini, which has two strings and several wooden stops attached to the long handle, along with a wooden plectrum.

Kallu (stone).—A sub-division of Gāniga and Oddē. Kallukoti (stone-mason) is a sub-division of Malabar Kammālans, who work in stone.

Kallu (stone).—A sub-division of Gāniga and Oddē. Kallukoti (stone-mason) is a sub-division of Malabar Kammālans, who work with stone.

Kallukatti.—It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the South Canara district, that “a grinding stone made of granite is an article peculiar to South Canara. It is a semicircular, oval-shaped block with a flat bottom, and a round hole in the middle of the surface. It has another oval-shaped block, thin and long, with one end so shaped as to fit into the hole in the larger block. These two together make what is known as the grinding-stone of the district, which is used for grinding curry-stuff, rice, wheat, etc. Mill-stones for pounding grain are also made of granite. Formerly, a class of people called Kallukattis used to make such articles, but the industry is now taken up by other castes as well. Mile-stones, slabs for temple door-frames, idols and other figures for temple purposes are also made of granite.”

Kallukatti.—The Gazetteer of the South Canara district notes that “a grinding stone made of granite is unique to South Canara. It is a semicircular, oval-shaped block with a flat bottom and a round hole in the center of the surface. There’s another oval-shaped block, which is thin and long, with one end designed to fit into the hole of the larger block. Together, these two pieces form what is known as the grinding stone of the district, used for grinding curry ingredients, rice, wheat, and more. Granite is also used to make millstones for pounding grain. In the past, a group of people called Kallukattis made these items, but now the craft has been taken up by other castes as well. Additionally, granite is used to create mile-stones, slabs for temple doorframes, idols, and other figures for temple purposes.”

Kallūr.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a name for the Pulikkappanikkan sub-division of Nāyar.

Kallūr.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a name for the Pulikkappanikkan sub-division of Nāyar.

Kallūri (stone village).—An exogamous sept of Mēdara. [93]

Kallūri (stone village).—An exogamous group of Mēdara. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kal Tacchan (stone-mason).—A sub-division of Kammālan.

Kal Tacchan (stonemason).—A sub-division of Kammālan.

Kalti (expunged).—A degraded Paraiyan is known as a Kalti. Amongst the Paraiyans of Madras, Chingleput and North Arcot, the rule is that a man who does not abide by the customs of the caste is formally excommunicated by a caste council. He then joins “those at Vinnamangalam” near Vellore, i.e., those who have, like himself, been driven out of the caste.

Kalti (removed).—A degraded Paraiyan is called a Kalti. Among the Paraiyans of Madras, Chingleput, and North Arcot, the rule is that if a man does not follow the customs of the caste, a caste council formally excommunicates him. He then joins "those at Vinnamangalam" near Vellore, i.e., those who have, like him, been expelled from the caste.

Kalugunādu (eagle’s country).—An exogamous sept of Tamil goldsmiths in the Madura district.

Kalugunādu (eagle’s country).—A group of Tamil goldsmiths in the Madura district that practices exogamy.

Kaluthai (possessors of donkeys).—A sub-division of Oddē.

Kaluthai (donkey owners).—A subgroup of Oddē.

Kalyānakulam (marriage people).—A fanciful name returned by some Mangalas at times of census, as they officiate as musicians at marriages.

Kalyānakulam (marriage people).—A creative name reported by some Mangalas during census periods, as they perform as musicians at weddings.

Kamadi (tortoise).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kamadi (tortoise).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kāmākshiamma.—Recorded, in the North Arcot Manual, as a sub-division of Vāniyan. Kāmākshiamma is the chief goddess worshipped at Conjeeveram. She and Mīnākshi Amma of Madura are two well-known goddesses worshipped by Saivites. Both names are synonyms of Parvati, the wife of Siva.

Kāmākshiamma.—Recorded in the North Arcot Manual as a sub-division of Vāniyan. Kāmākshiamma is the main goddess worshipped at Conjeeveram. She and Mīnākshi Amma of Madura are two prominent goddesses honored by Saivites. Both names refer to Parvati, the wife of Siva.

Kāmāti (foolish).—A name sometimes applied to carpenters, and also of a sub-division of Okkiliyans, who are said to have abandoned their original occupation of cultivating land, and become bricklayers.

Kāmāti (foolish).—A term occasionally used for carpenters, as well as a subgroup of Okkiliyans, who are said to have left their original work of farming and taken up bricklaying.

Kambalam.—The name Kambalam is applied to a group of nine castes (Tottiyan, Annappan, Kāppiliyan, Chakkiliyan, etc.), because at their council meetings a blanket (kambli) is spread, on which is placed a brass vessel (kalasam) filled with water, and decorated with flowers. (See Tottiyan.)

Kambalam.—The term Kambalam refers to a group of nine castes (Tottiyan, Annappan, Kāppiliyan, Chakkiliyan, etc.) because during their council meetings, they spread a blanket (kambli) and place a brass vessel (kalasam) filled with water on it, decorated with flowers. (See Tottiyan.)

Kambalattān.—A synonym of Tottiyan. [94]

Kambalattān.—A synonym for Tottiyan. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kamban.—A title of the Ōcchans, to which caste the great Tamil epic poet Kamban is reputed to have belonged.

Kamban.—A title of the Ōcchans, the caste that the famous Tamil epic poet Kamban is believed to have belonged to.

Kambha.—Kambha or Kambhāpu, meaning a pillar or post, has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Mādiga and Kōmati.

Kambha.—Kambha or Kambhāpu, which means a pillar or post, has been noted as an exogamous group of Mādiga and Kōmati.

Kamma.—Writing collectively concerning the Kammas, Kāpus or Reddis, Velamas, and Telagas, Mr. W. Francis states61 that “all four of these large castes closely resemble one another in appearance and customs, and seem to have branched off from one and the same Dravidian stock. Originally soldiers by profession, they are now mainly agriculturists and traders, and some of them in the north are zamindars (land-owners). The Rāzus, who now claim to be Kshatriyas, were probably descended from Kāpus, Kammas, and Velamas. The Kammas and Kāpus of the Madura and Tinnevelly districts seem to have followed the Vijayanagar army south, and settled in these districts when the Nāyak Governors were established there. Their women are less strict in their deportment than those of the same castes further north, the latter of whom are very careful of their reputations, and, in the case of one section of the Kammas, are actually gōsha (kept in seclusion) like Musalmānis.”

Kamma.—In a collective writing about the Kammas, Kāpus or Reddis, Velamas, and Telagas, Mr. W. Francis states61 that “all four of these large castes closely resemble each other in appearance and customs and seem to have originated from the same Dravidian background. Initially soldiers by profession, they are now primarily farmers and merchants, with some of them in the north being zamindars (landowners). The Rāzus, who now claim to be Kshatriyas, probably descended from Kāpus, Kammas, and Velamas. The Kammas and Kāpus from the Madura and Tinnevelly districts appeared to have followed the Vijayanagar army south and settled in these areas when the Nāyak Governors were established there. Their women are less strict in their behavior than those of the same castes further north, who are very cautious about their reputations. In fact, one segment of the Kammas actually keeps their women gōsha (in seclusion) like Muslims.”

Various stories are current, which point to the common ancestry of the Kammas, Kāpus, and Velamas. The word Kamma in Telugu means the ear-ornament, such as is worn by women. According to one legend “the Rishis, being troubled by Rākshasas, applied to Vishnu for protection, and he referred them to Lakshmi. The goddess gave them a casket containing one of her [95]ear ornaments (kamma), and enjoined them to worship it for a hundred years. At the expiry of that period, a band of five hundred armed warriors sprang up from the casket, who, at the request of the Rishis, attacked and destroyed the giants. After this they were directed to engage in agriculture, being promised extensive estates, and the consideration paid to Kshatriyas. They accordingly became possessed of large territories, such as Amrāvati and others in the Kistna, Nellore and other districts, and have always been most successful agriculturists.”62

Various stories exist that point to the common ancestry of the Kammas, Kāpus, and Velamas. The word Kamma in Telugu means the ear ornament worn by women. According to one legend, "the Rishis, troubled by Rākshasas, sought protection from Vishnu, who referred them to Lakshmi. The goddess provided them with a casket containing one of her ear ornaments (kamma) and instructed them to worship it for a hundred years. When that time was up, a group of five hundred armed warriors emerged from the casket, who, at the Rishis' request, attacked and defeated the giants. After this, they were told to take up agriculture, with the promise of large estates and respect from the Kshatriyas. As a result, they acquired vast territories, such as Amrāvati and others in the Kistna, Nellore, and other districts, and have always been very successful farmers."

Some Kammas, when questioned by Mr. F. R. Hemingway in the Godāvari district, stated that they were originally Kshatriyas, but were long ago persecuted by a king of the family of Parikshat, because one of them called him a bastard. They sought refuge with the Kāpus, who took them in, and they adopted the customs of their protectors. According to another legend, a valuable ear ornament, belonging to Rāja Pratāpa Rudra, fell into the hands of an enemy, whom a section of the Kāpus boldly attacked, and recovered the jewel. This feat earned for them and their descendants the title Kamma. Some of the Kāpus ran away, and they are reputed to be the ancestors of the Velamas (veli, away). At the time when the Kammas and Velamas formed a single caste, they observed the Muhammadan gōsha system, whereby the women are kept in seclusion. This was, however, found to be very inconvenient for their agricultural pursuits. They accordingly determined to abandon it, and an agreement was drawn up on a palm-leaf scroll. Those who signed it are said to have become Kammas, and those who declined to do so [96]Velamas, or outsiders. One meaning of the word kamma is the palm-leaf roll, such as is used to produce dilatation of the lobes of the ears. According to another story, there once lived a king, Belthi Reddi by name, who had a large number of wives, the favourite among whom he appointed Rāni. The other wives, being jealous, induced their sons to steal all the jewels of the Rāni, but they were caught in the act by the king, who on the following day asked his wife for her jewels, which she could not produce. Some of the sons ran away, and gave origin to the Velamas; others restored the kamma, and became Kammas. Yet one more story. Pratāpa Rudra’s wife lost her ear ornament, and four of the king’s captains were sent in search of it. Of these, one restored the jewel, and his descendants became Kammas; the second attacked the thieves, and gave origin to the Velamas; the third ran away, and so his children became the ancestors of the Pakanātis; and the fourth disappeared.

Some Kammas, when asked by Mr. F. R. Hemingway in the Godāvari district, said that they originally came from the Kshatriya class but were persecuted long ago by a king from the Parikshat family because one of them called him a bastard. They sought refuge with the Kāpus, who accepted them, and they adopted the customs of their protectors. According to another story, a valuable ear ornament that belonged to Rāja Pratāpa Rudra was taken by an enemy, whom some Kāpus bravely attacked and recovered the jewel from. This act earned them and their descendants the title Kamma. Some of the Kāpus fled, and they are believed to be the ancestors of the Velamas (veli means away). When the Kammas and Velamas were part of the same caste, they practiced the Muhammadan gōsha system, which kept women in seclusion. However, this was found to be quite inconvenient for their farming activities. They decided to abandon it, and a contract was written on a palm-leaf scroll. Those who signed it are said to have become Kammas, while those who didn’t are called Velamas, or outsiders. One meaning of the word kamma is the palm-leaf roll used to stretch the lobes of the ears. According to another tale, a king named Belthi Reddi had many wives, with one favored as Rāni. The other wives, feeling jealous, encouraged their sons to steal all of Rāni's jewels, but they were caught by the king. The next day, he asked his wife for her jewels, which she couldn’t find. Some of the sons ran away and became the Velamas; others returned the jewels and became Kammas. Yet another story goes that Pratāpa Rudra’s wife lost her ear ornament, and four of the king’s captains were sent to find it. One of them found the jewel and his descendants became Kammas; the second confronted the thieves, leading to the formation of the Velamas; the third fled, and his descendants became the ancestors of the Pakanātis; and the fourth captain vanished.

According to the Census Report, 1891, the main sub-divisions of the Kammas are Gampa, Illuvellani, Gōdajāti, Kāvali, Vaduga, Pedda, and Bangāru. It would seem that there are two main endogamous sections, Gampa (basket) Chātu, and Gōda (wall) Chātu. Chātu is said to mean a screen or hiding place. Concerning the origin of these sections, the following story is told. Two sisters were bathing in a tank (pond), when a king happened to pass by. To hide themselves, one of the girls hid behind a basket, and the other behind a wall. The descendants of the two sisters became the Gampa and Gōda Chātu Kammas, who may not intermarry by reason of their original close relationship. According to another legend, after a desperate battle, some members of the caste escaped by hiding behind baskets, others behind a wall. The terms Illuvellani and Pedda seem to [97]be synonymous with Gōdachatu. The women of this section were gōsha, and not allowed to appear in public, and even at the present day they do not go out and work freely in the fields. The name Illuvellani indicates those who do not go (vellani) out of the house (illu). The name Pedda (great) refers to the superiority of the section. Vaduga simply means Telugu, and is probably a name given by Tamilians to the Kammas who live amongst them. The name Bangāru is said to refer to the custom of the women of this sub-division wearing only gold nose ornaments (bangāramu). The Gōdajāti sub-division is said to be most numerously represented in North Arcot and Chingleput, the Illuvellani in Kistna, Nellore and Anantapur. The Kāvali sub-division is practically confined to the Godāvari, and the Pedda to the Kistna district. The Vaduga Kammas are found chiefly in Coimbatore.

According to the Census Report from 1891, the main sub-divisions of the Kammas are Gampa, Illuvellani, Gōdajāti, Kāvali, Vaduga, Pedda, and Bangāru. It appears there are two primary endogamous groups: Grandpa (basket) Chātu and Gōda (wall) Chātu. Chātu is said to mean a screen or hiding place. Regarding the origin of these groups, there’s a story that explains it. Two sisters were bathing in a pond when a king happened to pass by. To hide from him, one sister concealed herself behind a basket, and the other behind a wall. The descendants of the two sisters became the Gampa and Gōda Chātu Kammas, who aren't allowed to intermarry because of their original close relationship. According to another legend, after a fierce battle, some members of the caste escaped by hiding behind baskets, while others hid behind a wall. The names Illuvellani and Pedda appear to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]be synonymous with Gōda Chātu. The women of this group were gōsha and were not allowed to appear in public, and even today, they do not work freely in the fields. The name Illuvellani suggests those who do not go (vellani) out of the house (illu). The name Pedda (great) indicates the group's superiority. Vaduga simply means Telugu and was likely a name given by Tamilians to the Kammas living among them. The name Bangāru refers to the custom of the women in this sub-division wearing only gold nose ornaments (bangāramu). The Gōdajāti sub-division is most prominently found in North Arcot and Chingleput, while the Illuvellani are located in Kistna, Nellore, and Anantapur. The Kāvali sub-division is largely limited to the Godāvari, and the Pedda is mostly in the Kistna district. The Vaduga Kammas are mainly found in Coimbatore.

In his note on the Kammas of the Godāvari district, Mr. Hemingway writes that “in this district they are divided into Kāvitis, Erēdis, Gampas or Gūdas, Uggams, and Rāchas. These names are, according to local accounts, derived from curious household customs, generally from traditional methods of carrying water. Thus, the Kāvitis will not ordinarily carry water except in pots on a kāvidi, the Erēdis except on a pack-bullock, the Uggams except in pots held in the hand, and not on the hip or head, the Rāchas except in a pot carried by two persons. The Gampa women, when they first go to their husbands’ houses, take the customary presents in a basket. It is said that these practices are generally observed at the present day.”

In his note on the Kammas of the Godāvari district, Mr. Hemingway mentions that "in this district they are divided into Kāvitis, Erēdis, Gampas or Gūdas, Uggams, and Rāchas. According to local accounts, these names come from unique household customs, mainly related to traditional ways of carrying water. For example, the Kāvitis usually carry water only in pots on a kāvidi, the Erēdis only on a pack-bullock, the Uggams only in pots held in their hands—not on their hips or heads—and the Rāchas only in a pot carried by two people. When Gampa women first go to their husbands’ homes, they bring customary gifts in a basket. It is said that these practices are still generally observed today."

Writing concerning the Iluvedalani (Illuvellani) Kammas, the editor of the Kurnool Manual (1886) states that “a few families only exist in the district. The [98]women are kept in strict gōsha. They consider it beneath them to spin thread, or to do other work. A sub-division of this caste lives in Pullalcheruvu, whose families, also gōsha, work at the spindles, like other women of the country. Another class of indoor Kammas resides about Owk. They are apparently descendants of the Kammas, who followed the Naiks from Guntūr to Gandikota in the sixteenth century. They are now reduced, and the females work, like Kāpus, in the field. The Gampas are distinguished from the indoor Kammas by their women wearing the cloth over the right, instead of the left shoulder.”

Writing about the Iluvedalani (Illuvellani) Kammas, the editor of the Kurnool Manual (1886) notes that “only a few families remain in the district. The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]women are kept in strict gōsha. They believe it is beneath them to spin thread or do other work. One subgroup of this caste lives in Pullalcheruvu, where their families, also gōsha, work at the spindles like other women in the area. Another group of indoor Kammas lives around Owk. They seem to be descendants of the Kammas who followed the Naiks from Guntūr to Gandikota in the sixteenth century. They are now diminished in status, and the women work in the fields, like Kāpus. The Gampas are different from the indoor Kammas in that their women wear their cloth over the right shoulder instead of the left.”

As with other Telugu castes, there are, among the Kammas, a number of exogamous septs or intipēru, of which the following are examples:—

As with other Telugu castes, the Kammas also have several exogamous clans or intipēru, some of which include the following:—

  • Anumollu, Dolichos Lablab.
  • Tsanda, tax or subscription.
  • Jasthi, too much.
  • Mallela, jasmine.
  • Lanka, island.
  • Thota kūra, Amarantus gangetícus.
  • Komma, horn, or branch of a tree.
  • Chēni, dry field.
  • Palakala, planks.
  • Kastūri, musk.
  • Baththāla, rice.
  • Karnam, accountant.
  • Irpina, combs.
  • Gāli, wind.
  • Dhaniāla, coriander.

The Kammas also have gōtras such as Chittipoola, Kurunollu, Kulakala, Uppāla, Cheruku (sugar-cane), Vallotla, and Yenamalla.

The Kammas also have gotras like Chittipoola, Kurunollu, Kulakala, Uppāla, Cheruku (sugar-cane), Vallotla, and Yenamalla.

When matters affecting the community have to be decided, a council of the leading members thereof assembles. But, in some places, there is a permanent headman, called Mannemantri or Chaudri.

When issues affecting the community need to be decided, a council of its leading members comes together. However, in some areas, there is a permanent leader known as Mannemantri or Chaudri.

The Kammas will work as coolies in the fields, but will, on no account, engage themselves as domestic servants. “They are,” the Rev. J. Cain writes,63 “as a rule a fine well-built class of cultivators, very proud and [99]exclusive, and have a great aversion to town life. Many of them never allow their wives to leave their compounds, and it is said that many never do field work on Sundays, but confine themselves on that day to their house-work.” “If,” a correspondent writes from the Kistna district, “you ask in a village whether so-and-so is a Brāhman, and they say ‘No. He is an āsāmi (ordinary man),’ he will be a Kamma or Kāpu. If you ask how many pay income-tax in a village, they may tell you two Baniyas (merchants), and two Samsāri-vallu, i.e., two prosperous Kamma ryots.”

The Kammas work as laborers in the fields but will never take jobs as domestic helpers. “They are,” writes Rev. J. Cain, 63 “generally a strong, well-built group of farmers, very proud and exclusive, with a strong dislike for city life. Many of them don’t allow their wives to leave their homes, and it’s said that many don’t do fieldwork on Sundays, focusing instead on household duties.” “If,” a correspondent from the Kistna district writes, “you ask in a village whether someone is a Brāhman, and they say ‘No. He is an āsāmi (ordinary man),’ he will be a Kamma or Kāpu. If you ask how many people pay income tax in a village, they might tell you two Baniyas (merchants) and two Samsāri-vallu, i.e. two prosperous Kamma ryots.”

The Kammas are stated by Mr. H. A. Stuart64 to be “most industrious and intelligent cultivators, who, now that gōsha has been generally abandoned, beat all rivals out of the field—a fact which is recognised by several proverbs, such as Kamma vāni chētulu kattīna nilavadu (though you tie a Kamma’s hands, he will not be quiet); Kamma vāndlu chērīte kadama jātula vellunu (if Kammas come in, other castes go out); Kamma vāriki bhūmi bhayapadu tunnadi (the earth fears the Kammas), and many others to the same effect. In addition to being industrious and well-to-do they are very proud, an instance of which occurred in the Kistna district, when the Revenue Settlement Officer offered them pattās, in which they were simply called Naidu without the honorific ending gāru. They refused on this account to accept them, and finally the desired alteration was made, as they proved that all of their caste were considered entitled to the distinction. In North Arcot, however, they are not so particular, though some refuse to have their head shaved, because they scruple to bow down before a barber. Besides Vishnu the Kammas worship [100]Ganga, because they say that long ago they fled from Northern India, to avoid the anger of a certain Rāja, who had been refused a bride from among them. They were pursued, but their women, on reaching the Mahānadi, prayed for a passage to Ganga, who opened a dry path for them through the river. Crossing, they all hid themselves in a dholl (Cajanus indicus) field, and thus escaped from their pursuers. For this reason, at their marriages, they tie a bunch of dholl leaves to the north-eastern post of the wedding booth, and worship Ganga before tying the tāli.”

The Kammas are described by Mr. H. A. Stuart64 as “the most hardworking and intelligent farmers. Now that gōsha has mostly been abandoned, they outperform all competitors in the field—a fact supported by several proverbs, like Kamma vāni chētulu kattīna nilavadu (even if you tie a Kamma’s hands, he won’t stay quiet); Kamma vāndlu chērīte kadama jātula vellunu (if Kammas come in, other castes leave); and Kamma vāriki bhūmi bhayapadu tunnadi (the earth fears the Kammas), along with many others conveying the same meaning. Besides being industrious and successful, they are very proud. A notable instance of this occurred in the Kistna district when the Revenue Settlement Officer offered them pattās, simply addressing them as Naidu without the honorific ending gāru. They refused to accept these because of that oversight, and ultimately, the desired change was made since they demonstrated that all members of their caste deserved the distinction. In North Arcot, however, they are less particular, although some refuse to have their heads shaved because they don’t want to bow to a barber. In addition to Vishnu, the Kammas worship [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Ganga, claiming that long ago, they fled from Northern India to escape the wrath of a certain Rāja who had been denied a bride from their group. They were pursued, but when their women reached the Mahānadi, they prayed for a way to cross to Ganga, who opened a dry path for them through the river. After crossing, they all hid in a dholl (Cajanus indicus) field and thus escaped their pursuers. For this reason, at their weddings, they tie a bunch of dholl leaves to the north-eastern post of the wedding booth and worship Ganga before tying the tāli.”

Among the Kammas of the Tamil country, the bridegroom is said to be sometimes much younger than the bride, and a case is on record of a wife of twenty-two years of age, who used to carry her boy-husband on her hip, as a mother carries her child.65 A parallel is to be found in Russia, where not very long ago grown-up women were to be seen carrying about boys of six, to whom they were betrothed.66 Widow remarriage is not permitted. Widows of the Gōda chatu section wear white, and those of the Gampa chatu section coloured cloths.

Among the Kammas of Tamil Nadu, it's said that the groom can sometimes be much younger than the bride. There's a documented case of a 22-year-old wife who used to carry her boy-husband on her hip like a mother carries her child.65 A similar situation existed in Russia not too long ago, where grown women were seen carrying around their six-year-old betrothed boys.66 Remarrying after becoming a widow is not allowed. Widows from the Gōda chatu section wear white, while those from the Gampa chatu section wear colored cloths.

Prior to the betrothal ceremony, female ancestors, Vignēswara, and the Grāma Dēvata (village deities) are worshipped. A near relation of the future bridegroom proceeds, with a party, to the home of the future bride. On their way thither, they look for omens, such as the crossing of birds in an auspicious direction. Immediately on the occurrence of a favourable omen, they burn camphor, and break a cocoanut, which must split in two with clean edges. One half is sent to the would-be bridegroom, and the other taken to the [101]bride’s house. If the first cocoanut does not split properly, others are broken till the wished-for result is obtained. When the girl’s house is reached, she demands the sagunam (omen) cocoanut. Her lap is filled with flowers, cocoanuts, turmeric, plantains, betel leaves and areca nuts, combs, sandal paste, and coloured powder (kunkumam). The wedding day is then fixed. Marriage is generally celebrated at the house of the bridegroom, but, if it is a case of kannikadhānam (presenting the girl without claiming the bride’s price), at the house of the bride. The bride-price is highest in the Gampa section. On the first day of the marriage rites, the petta mugada sangyam, or box-lid ceremony is performed. The new cloths for the bridal couple, five plantains, nuts, and pieces of turmeric, one or two combs, four rupees, and the bride-price in money or jewels, are placed in a box, which is placed near the parents of the contracting couple. The contents of the box are then laid out on the lid, and examined by the sammandhis (new relations by marriage). The bride’s father gives betel leaves and areca nuts to the father of the bridegroom, saying “The girl is yours, and the money mine.” The bridegroom’s father hands them back, saying “The girl is mine, and the money yours.” This is repeated three times. The officiating purōhit (priest) then announces that the man’s daughter is to be given in marriage to so-and-so, and the promise is made before the assembled Dēva Brāhmanas, and in the presence of light, Agni, and the Dēvatas. This ceremony is binding, and, should the bridegroom perchance die before the bottu (marriage badge) is tied, she becomes, and remains a widow. The milk-post is next set up, the marriage pots are arranged, and the nalagu ceremony is performed. This consists of the [102]anointing of the bridal couple with oil, and smearing the shoulders with turmeric flour, or Acacia Concinna paste. A barber pares the nails of the bridegroom, and simply touches those of the bride with a mango leaf dipped in milk. In some places this rite is omitted by the Gampa section. A small wooden framework, called dhornam, with cotton threads wound round it, is generally tied to the marriage pandal (booth) by a Tsākali (washerman) not only at a marriage among the Kammas, but also among the Balijas, Kāpus, and Velamas. After the return of the bridal couple from bathing, the bridegroom is decorated, and taken to a specially prepared place within or outside the house, to perform Vīra-gudimokkadam, or worship of heroes in their temple. At the spot selected a pandal has been erected, and beneath it three or five bricks, representing the heroes (vīralu), are set up. The bricks are smeared with turmeric paste, and painted with red dots. In front of the bricks an equal number of pots are placed, and they are worshipped by breaking a cocoanut, and burning camphor and incense. The bridegroom then prostrates himself before the bricks, and, taking up a sword, cuts some lime fruits, and touches the pots three times. In former days, a goat or sheep was sacrificed. The hero worship, as performed by the Gōda section, differs from the above rite as practiced by the Gampa section. Instead of erecting a pandal, the Gōdas go to a pīpal (Ficus religiosa) tree, near which one or more daggers are placed. A yellow cotton thread is wound three or five times round the tree, which is worshipped. As a substitute for animal sacrifice, lime fruits are cut. The hero worship concluded, the wrist-threads of cotton and wool (kankanam) are tied on the bride and bridegroom, who is taken to the temple after he has bathed and dressed himself in new clothes. On [103]his return to the booth, the purōhit lights the sacred fire, and the contracting couple sit side by side on a plank. They then stand, with a screen spread between them, and the bridegroom, with his right big toe on that of the bride, ties the bottu round her neck. They then go three times round the dais, with the ends of their cloths knotted together. The bottu of the Gampas is a concave disc of gold, that of the Gōdas a larger flat disc. On the following day, the usual nāgavali, or sacrifice to the Dēvas is offered, and a nāgavali bottu (small gold disc) tied. All the relations make presents to the bridal pair, who indulge in a mock representation of domestic life. On the third day, pongal (rice) is offered to the pots, and the wrist-threads are removed. Like the Palli bridegroom, the Kamma bridegroom performs a mimic ploughing ceremony, but at the house instead of at a tank (pond). He goes to a basket filled with earth, carrying the iron bar of a ploughshare, an ox-goad, and rope, accompanied by the bride carrying in her lap seeds or seedlings. While he pretends to be ploughing, his sister stops him, and will not let him continue till he has promised to give his first-born daughter to her son in marriage. The marriage pots are presented to the sisters of the bridegroom. During the marriage celebration, meat must not be cooked.

Before the betrothal ceremony, female ancestors, Vignēswara, and the village deities are worshipped. A close relative of the future groom goes with a group to the bride's home. On their way, they look for signs, like birds crossing their path in a good direction. As soon as a favorable sign occurs, they burn camphor and break a coconut, which must split into two clean halves. One half is sent to the groom, and the other is taken to the bride's house. If the first coconut doesn’t split well, they keep breaking more coconuts until they get a good result. Once they arrive at the girl’s house, she asks for the auspicious coconut. Her lap is filled with flowers, coconuts, turmeric, plantains, betel leaves, areca nuts, combs, sandal paste, and colored powder (kunkumam). They then set the wedding date. The marriage usually happens at the groom's house, but if it's a case of kannikadhānam (giving the girl without asking for a bride-price), it takes place at the bride's house. The bride-price is highest in the Gampa section. On the first day of the wedding rituals, the petta mugada sangyam, or box-lid ceremony, is performed. The new clothes for the bridal couple, five plantains, nuts, pieces of turmeric, one or two combs, four rupees, and the bride-price in either money or jewelry are placed in a box, which is set near the parents of the couple. The contents of the box are then displayed on the lid and examined by the new in-laws. The bride’s father gives betel leaves and areca nuts to the groom's father, saying, “The girl is yours, and the money is mine.” The groom’s father returns them, replying, “The girl is mine, and the money is yours.” This exchange happens three times. The officiating priest then announces that the man’s daughter is to be given in marriage to the groom, and the promise is made before the assembled Dēva Brāhmanas, in the presence of light, Agni, and the deities. This ceremony is binding, and if the groom happens to die before the marriage badge (bottu) is tied, she becomes and remains a widow. Next, the milk-post is set up, marriage pots are arranged, and the nalagu ceremony is performed. This involves anointing the bridal couple with oil and smearing their shoulders with turmeric flour or Acacia Concinna paste. A barber trims the groom's nails, while he just touches the bride’s with a mango leaf dipped in milk. In some places, this ritual is skipped by the Gampa section. A small wooden frame called dhornam, with cotton threads wrapped around it, is usually tied to the marriage booth by a washerman, not just at Kammas' weddings, but also among Balijas, Kāpus, and Velamas. After the bridal couple returns from bathing, the groom is decorated and taken to a special spot inside or outside the house to perform Vīra-gudimokkadam, or hero worship in their temple. At the chosen spot, a booth has been set up, beneath which three or five bricks representing the heroes are arranged. The bricks are smeared with turmeric paste and painted with red dots. In front of the bricks, an equal number of pots are placed, and they are honored by breaking a coconut, burning camphor, and incense. The groom then bows before the bricks, and using a sword, he cuts some lime fruits and touches the pots three times. In the past, a goat or sheep was sacrificed. The hero worship, as performed by the Gōda section, is different from the way the Gampa section does it. Instead of setting up a booth, the Gōdas go to a pipal tree, near which one or more daggers are placed. A yellow cotton thread is wrapped around the tree three or five times, which is then worshipped. Lime fruits are cut instead of an animal sacrifice. Once the hero worship is done, cotton and wool wrist threads (kankanam) are tied to the bride and groom, who are taken to the temple after bathing and dressing in new clothes. Upon their return to the booth, the priest lights the sacred fire, and the couple sits side by side on a plank. They stand with a screen between them, and the groom, with his right big toe touching the bride’s, ties the bottu around her neck. They then walk around the dais three times, with their cloth ends knotted together. The Gampa bottu is a concave gold disc, while the Gōda's is a larger flat disc. The next day, the usual nāgavali, or sacrifice to the deities, is made, and a nāgavali bottu (small gold disc) is tied. All the relatives give gifts to the couple, who then enjoy a mock display of domestic life. On the third day, pongal (rice) is offered to the pots, and the wrist threads are removed. Similar to the Palli bridegroom, the Kamma bridegroom does a mock plowing ceremony, but inside the house instead of at a pond. He approaches a basket filled with soil, carrying a plowshare's iron bar, an ox-goad, and rope, with the bride carrying seeds or seedlings in her lap. While he pretends to plow, his sister stops him, insisting he promises to give his first-born daughter to her son in marriage. The marriage pots are presented to the groom's sisters. During the wedding celebrations, no meat is cooked.

Among the Kammas, consummation does not take place till three months after the marriage ceremony, as it is considered unlucky to have three heads of a family in a household during the first year of marriage. By the delay, the birth of a child should take place only in the second year, so that, during the first year, there will be only two heads, husband and wife. In like manner, it is noted by Mr. Francis67 that, among the Gangimakkalu [104]and Mādigas, the marriage is not consummated till three months after its celebration.

Among the Kammas, consummation doesn't happen until three months after the wedding because it's considered unlucky to have three heads of a household in a home during the first year of marriage. This delay ensures that the first child will be born in the second year, leaving only two heads—husband and wife—in the first year. Similarly, Mr. Francis notes that, among the Gangimakkalu [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] and Mādigas, marriage isn't consummated until three months after the ceremony.

When a pregnant woman is delivered, twigs of Balanites Roxburghii are placed round the house.

When a pregnant woman gives birth, twigs of Balanites Roxburghii are placed around the house.

The dead are usually cremated. As the moment of death approaches, a cocoanut is broken, and camphor burnt. The thumbs and great toes of the corpse are tied together. A woman, who is left a widow, exchanges betel with her dead husband, and the women put rice into his mouth. The corpse is carried to the burning-ground on a bier, with the head towards the house. When it approaches a spot called Arichandra’s temple, the bier is placed on the ground, and food is placed at the four corners. Then a Paraiyan or Māla repeats the formula “I am the first born (i.e., the representative of the oldest caste). I wore the sacred thread at the outset. I am Sangu Paraiyan (or Reddi Māla). I was the patron of Arichandra. Lift the corpse, and turn it round with its head towards the smāsanam (burning-ground), and feet towards the house.” When the corpse has been laid on the pyre, the relations throw rice over it, and the chief mourner goes three times round the pyre, carrying on his shoulder a pot of water, in which a barber makes holes. During the third turn he lights the pyre, and throwing down the pot, goes off to bathe. On the following day, a stone is placed on the spot where the deceased breathed his last, and his clothes are put close to it. The women pour milk over the stone, and offer milk, cocoanuts, cooked rice, betel, etc., to it. These are taken by the males to the burning-ground. When Arichandra’s temple is reached, they place there a small quantity of food on a leaf. At the burning-ground, the fire is extinguished, and the charred bones are collected, and placed on a plantain leaf. Out of the ashes they make an effigy on [105]the ground, to which food is offered on four leaves, one of which is placed on the abdomen of the figure, and the other three are set by the side of it. The first of these is taken by the Paraiyan, and the others are given to a barber, washerman, and Panisavan (a mendicant caste). The final death ceremonies (karmāndhiram) are performed on the sixteenth day. They commence with the punyāham, or purificatory ceremony, and the giving of presents to Brāhmans. Inside the house, the dead person’s clothes are worshipped by the women. The widow is taken to a tank or well, where her nāgavali bottu is removed. This usually wears out in a very short time, so a new one is worn for the purpose of the death ceremony. The males proceed to a tank, and make an effigy on the ground, near which three small stones are set up. On these libations of water are poured, and cooked rice, vegetables, etc., are offered. The chief mourner then goes into the water, carrying the effigy, which is thrown in, and dives as many times as there have been days between the funeral and the karmāndhiram. The ceremony closes with the making of presents to the Brāhmans and agnates. Towards evening, the widow sits on a small quantity of rice on the ground, and her marriage bottu is removed. The Kammas perform a first annual ceremony, but not a regular srādh afterwards.68

The dead are usually cremated. As death approaches, a coconut is broken, and camphor is burned. The thumbs and big toes of the body are tied together. A widow shares betel with her deceased husband, and women put rice into his mouth. The body is carried to the cremation ground on a bier, with the head facing the house. When it nears a spot called Arichandra’s temple, the bier is placed on the ground, and food is offered at all four corners. Then a Paraiyan or Māla recites the formula, “I am the firstborn (i.e., the representative of the oldest caste). I wore the sacred thread at the start. I am Sangu Paraiyan (or Reddi Māla). I was the patron of Arichandra. Lift the body, and turn it around so that the head faces the cremation ground and the feet face the house.” Once the body is laid on the pyre, the relatives throw rice over it, and the chief mourner walks around the pyre three times, carrying a pot of water on his shoulder, which a barber pierces. On the third round, he lights the pyre, then throws down the pot and goes off to bathe. The following day, a stone is placed where the deceased took their last breath, and their clothes are placed nearby. The women pour milk over the stone and offer milk, coconuts, cooked rice, betel, etc., to it. These offerings are taken by the men to the cremation ground. When they reach Arichandra’s temple, they place a small amount of food on a leaf there. At the cremation ground, the fire is put out, and the charred bones are collected and placed on a banana leaf. From the ashes, they make an effigy on [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the ground, to which food is offered on four leaves. One leaf is placed on the effigy’s abdomen, and the other three are set beside it. The first of these is taken by the Paraiyan, and the others are given to a barber, washerman, and Panisavan (a mendicant caste). The final death rites (karmāndhiram) are held on the sixteenth day. They begin with the punyāham, or purificatory ceremony, and the giving of gifts to Brahmins. Inside the house, the deceased’s clothes are worshipped by the women. The widow is taken to a tank or well, where her nāgavali bottu is removed. This usually wears out quickly, so a new one is put on for the death ceremony. The men go to a tank and create an effigy on the ground, near which three small stones are placed. Libations of water are poured over these stones, along with offerings of cooked rice, vegetables, etc. The chief mourner then enters the water with the effigy, which is then tossed in, and he dives as many times as there are days between the funeral and the karmāndhiram. The ceremony concludes with gifts given to the Brahmins and agnates. In the evening, the widow sits on a small amount of rice on the ground, and her marriage bottu is removed. The Kammas perform a first annual ceremony but do not have a regular srādh afterwards.68

As regards their religion, some Kammas are Saivites, others Vaishnavites. Most of the Saivites are disciples of Ārādhya Brāhmans, and the Vaishnavites of Vaishnava Brāhmans or Sātānis. The Gampas reverence Draupadi, Mannarsāmi, Gangamma, Ankamma, and Padavetiamma; the Gōdas Poleramma, Veikandla Thalli (the thousand-eyed goddess) and Padavetiamma. [106]

As for their religion, some Kammas follow Shaivism while others practice Vaishnavism. Most Shaivites are followers of Ārādhya Brahmins, and the Vaishnavites are affiliated with Vaishnava Brahmins or Sātānis. The Gampas worship Draupadi, Mannarsāmi, Gangamma, Ankamma, and Padavetiamma; the Gōdas honor Poleramma, Veikandla Thalli (the thousand-eyed goddess), and Padavetiamma. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kamma (ear ornament).—An exogamous sept of Motāti Kāpu.

Kamma (ear ornament).—A non-marriageable group of Motāti Kāpu.

Kammālan (Tamil).—The original form of the name Kammālan appears to have been Kannālan or Kannālar, both of which occur in Tamil poems, e.g., Thondamandala Satakam and Er Ezhuvathu, attributed to the celebrated poet Kamban. Kannālan denotes one who rules the eye, or one who gives the eye. When an image is made, its consecration takes place at the temple. Towards the close of the ceremonial, the Kammālan who made it comes forward, and carves out the eyes of the image. The name is said also to refer to those who make articles, and open the eyes of the people, i.e., who make articles pleasing to the eyes.

Kammālan (Tamil).—The original form of the name Kammālan seems to have been Kannālan or Kannālar, which both appear in Tamil poems, e.g., Thondamandala Satakam and Er Ezhuvathu, attributed to the famous poet Kamban. Kannālan means one who rules the eye, or one who gives the eye. When a statue is created, its consecration occurs at the temple. Towards the end of the ceremony, the Kammālan who made it steps forward and carves the eyes of the statue. The name is also thought to refer to those who create items and open the eyes of the people, i.e., those who make things visually appealing.

A very interesting account of the nētra mangalya, or ceremony of painting the eyes of images, as performed by craftsmen in Ceylon, has been published by Mr. A. K. Coomaraswamy.69 Therein he writes that “by far the most important ceremony connected with the building and decoration of a vihāra (temple), or with its renovation, was the actual nētra mangalya or eye ceremonial. The ceremony had to be performed in the case of any image, whether set up in a vihāra or not. Even in the case of flat paintings it was necessary. D. S. Muhandiram, when making for me a book of drawings of gods according to the Rupāvaliya, left the eyes to be subsequently inserted on a suitable auspicious occasion, with some simpler form of the ceremony described.

A very interesting account of the nētra mangalya, or the ceremony of painting the eyes of images, as carried out by craftsmen in Ceylon, has been published by Mr. A. K. Coomaraswamy.69 In it, he writes that “the most important ceremony associated with the building and decoration of a vihāra (temple), or with its renovation, was the actual nētra mangalya or eye ceremony. This ceremony needed to be performed for any image, whether it was placed in a vihāra or not. It was even necessary for flat paintings. D. S. Muhandiram, when creating a book of drawings of gods based on the Rupāvaliya, left the eyes to be added later on a suitable auspicious occasion, with a simpler version of the ceremony described.”

“Knox has a reference to the subject as follows. ‘Some, being devoutly disposed, will make the image of this god (Buddha) at their own charge. For the making whereof they must bountifully reward the [107]Founder. Before the eyes are made, it is not accounted a god, but a lump of ordinary metal, and thrown about the shop with no more regard than anything else. But, when the eyes are to be made, the artificer is to have a good gratification, besides the first agreed upon reward. The eyes being formed, it is thenceforward a god. And then, being brought with honour from the workman’s shop, it is dedicated by solemnities and sacrifices, and carried with great state into its shrine or little house, which is before built and prepared for it.’” The pupils of the eyes of a series of clay votive offerings, which were specially made for me, were not painted at the potter’s house, but in the verandah of the traveller’s bungalow where I was staying.

“Knox refers to the subject as follows: ‘Some people, being very devoted, will pay to have an image of this god (Buddha) made. They must generously reward the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Founder for its creation. Before the eyes are made, it’s not considered a god, but just a piece of ordinary metal, tossed around the shop without any special attention. However, when the eyes are about to be made, the craftsman deserves an additional payment on top of the previously agreed amount. Once the eyes are created, it’s considered a god from then on. Then, after being treated with respect and taken from the craftsman’s shop, it’s dedicated through ceremonies and sacrifices and carried with great ceremony into its shrine or small house, which has been built and prepared for it.’” The pupils of the eyes of a series of clay votive offerings, specifically made for me, were painted not at the potter’s workshop, but on the verandah of the traveler’s bungalow where I was staying.

The Tamil Kammālans are divided into three endogamous territorial groups, Pāndya, Sōzia (or Chōla), and Kongan. The Pāndyas live principally in the Madura and Tinnevelly districts, and the Sōzias in the Trichinopoly, Tanjore, Chingleput, North and South Arcot districts, and Madras. The Kongas are found chiefly in the Salem and Coimbatore districts. In some places, there are still further sub-divisions of territorial origin. Thus, the Pāndya Tattāns are divided into Karakattar, Vambanattar, Pennaikku-akkarayar (those on the other side of the Pennaiyar river), Munnūru-vīttukārar (those of the three hundred families), and so forth. They are further divided into exogamous septs, the names of which are derived from places, e.g., Perugumani, Musiri, Oryanādu, Thiruchendurai, and Kalagunādu.

The Tamil Kammālans are split into three endogamous territorial groups: Pāndya, Sōzia (or Chōla), and Kongan. The Pāndyas primarily live in the Madura and Tinnevelly districts, while the Sōzias are found in the Trichinopoly, Tanjore, Chingleput, North and South Arcot districts, and Madras. The Kongas mainly reside in the Salem and Coimbatore districts. In some areas, there are even more subdivisions based on territorial origins. For example, the Pāndya Tattāns are categorized into Karakattar, Vambanattar, Pennaikku-akkarayar (those on the other side of the Pennaiyar river), Munnūru-vīttukārar (those of the three hundred families), and so on. They are also divided into exogamous septs, with names taken from various places, e.g., Perugumani, Musiri, Oryanādu, Thiruchendurai, and Kalagunādu.

The Kammālans are made up of five occupational sections, viz., Tattān (goldsmith), Kannān (brass-smith), Tac’chan (carpenter), Kal-Tac’chan (stone-mason), and Kollan or Karumān (blacksmith). The name Pānchāla, [108]which is sometimes used by the Tamil as well as the Canarese artisan classes, has reference to the fivefold occupations. The various sections intermarry, but the goldsmiths have, especially in towns, ceased to intermarry with the blacksmiths. The Kammālans, claiming, as will be seen later on, to be Brāhmans, have adopted Brāhmanical gōtras, and the five sections have five gōtras called Visvagu, Janagha, Ahima, Janardana, and Ubhēndra, after certain Rishis (sages). Each of these gōtras, it is said, has twenty-five subordinate gōtras attached to it. The names of these, however, are not forthcoming, and indeed, except some individuals who act as priests for the Kammālans, few seem to have any knowledge of them. In their marriages the Kammālans closely imitate the Brāhmanical ceremonial, and the ceremonies last for three or five days according to the means of the parties. The parisam, or bride’s money, is paid, as among other non-Brāhmanical castes. Widows are allowed the use of ordinary jewelry and betel, which is not the case among Brāhmans, and they are not compelled to make the usual fasts, or observe the feasts commonly observed by Brāhmans.

The Kammālans consist of five occupational groups: Tattān (goldsmith), Kannān (brass-smith), Tac’chan (carpenter), Kal-Tac’chan (stone-mason), and Kollan or Karumān (blacksmith). The term Pānchāla, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]which is sometimes used by both Tamil and Canarese artisan classes, refers to these five occupations. The different sections intermarry, but in towns, goldsmiths have particularly stopped intermarrying with blacksmiths. The Kammālans, who claim to be Brāhmans as will be discussed later, have adopted Brahminical gōtras, and the five sections have five gōtras named Visvagu, Janagha, Ahima, Janardana, and Ubhēndra, derived from certain Rishis (sages). Each of these gōtras reportedly has twenty-five sub-gōtras associated with it. However, the names of these are not readily available, and besides a few individuals who serve as priests for the Kammālans, most seem to have little knowledge of them. In their marriages, the Kammālans closely follow Brahminical rituals, and the ceremonies last for three to five days, depending on the couple's financial situation. The parisam, or bride’s money, is given, as it is among other non-Brahminical castes. Widows are allowed to wear normal jewelry and chew betel, which is not permitted for Brahmins, and they are not required to observe the usual fasts or celebrate the feasts that Brahmins typically do.

The Kammālan caste is highly organised, and its organisation is one of its most interesting features. Each of the five divisions has at its head a Nāttāmaikkāran or headman, and a Kāryasthan, or chief executive officer, under him, who are elected by members of the particular division. Over them is the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran (also known as Ainduvittu Periyathanakkāran or Anjijāti Nāttāmaikkāran), who is elected by lot by representatives chosen from among the five sub-divisions. Each of these chooses ten persons to represent it at the election. These ten again select one of their number, who is the local Nāttāmaikkāran, or one who is likely to [109]become so. The five men thus selected meet on an appointed day, with the castemen, at the temple of the caste goddess Kāmākshi Amman. The names of the five men are written on five slips of paper, which, together with some blank slips, are thrown before the shrine of the goddess. A child, taken at random from the assembled crowd, is made to pick up the slips, and he whose name first turns up is proclaimed as Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, and a big turban is tied on his head by the caste priest. This is called Urumā Kattaradu, and is symbolic of his having been appointed the general head of the caste. Lots are then drawn, to decide which of the remaining four shall be the Anjivīttu Kāryasthan of the newly-elected chief. At the conclusion of the ceremony, betel leaf and areca nut are given first to the new officers, then to the local officers, and finally to the assembled spectators. With this, the installation ceremony, which is called pattam-kattaradu, comes to an end. The money for the expenses thereof is, if necessary, taken from the funds of the temple, but a special collection is generally made for the occasion, and is, it is said, responded to with alacrity. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran is theoretically invested with full powers over the caste, and all members thereof are expected to obey his orders. He is the final adjudicator of civil and matrimonial causes. The divisional heads have power to decide such causes, and they report their decisions to the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, who generally confirms them. If, for any reason, the parties concerned do not agree to abide by the decision, they are advised to take their cause to one of the established courts. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran has at times to nominate, and always the right to confirm or not, the selection of the divisional heads. In conjunction with the Kāryasthan [110]and the local heads, he may appoint Nāttāmaikkārans and Kāryasthans to particular places, and delegate his powers to them. This is done in places where the caste is represented in considerable numbers, as at Sholavandan and Vattalagūndu in the Madura district. In this connection, a quaint custom may be noted. The Pallans, who are known as “the sons of the caste” in villages of the Madura and Tinnevelly districts, are called together, and informed that a particular village is about to be converted into a local Anjivīttu Nāttānmai, and that they must possess a Nāttāmaikkāran and Kāryasthan for themselves. These are nominated in practice by the Pallans, and the nomination is confirmed by the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran. From that day, they have a right to get new ploughs from the Kallans free of charge, and give them in return a portion of the produce of the land. The local Nāttāmaikkārans are practically under the control of the Kāryasthan of the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, and, as the phrase goes, they are “bound down to” the words of this official, who possesses great power and influence with the community. The local officials may be removed from office by the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran or his Kāryasthan, but this is rarely done, and only when, for any valid reason, the sub-divisions insist on it. The mode of resigning office is for the Nāttāmaikkāran or Kāryasthan to bring betel leaf and areca nut, lay them before the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, or his Kāryasthan, and prostrate himself in front of him. There is a tendency for the various offices to become hereditary, provided those succeeding to them are rich and respected by the community. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran is entitled to the first betel at caste weddings, even outside his own jurisdiction. His powers are in striking contrast with those of the caste Guru, who resides in Tinnevelly, [111]and occasionally travels northwards. He purifies, it is said, those who are charged with drinking intoxicating liquor, eating flesh, or crossing the sea, if such persons subject themselves to his jurisdiction. If they do not, he does not even exercise the power of excommunication, which he nominally possesses. He is not a Sanyāsi, but a Grihastha or householder. He marries his daughters to castemen, though he refrains from eating in their houses.

The Kammālan caste is very organized, and its organization is one of its most fascinating aspects. Each of the five divisions has a headman, called a Nāttāmaikkāran, along with a chief executive officer, known as a Kāryasthan, who are elected by members of that division. Above them is the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran (also referred to as Ainduvittu Periyathanakkāran or Anjijāti Nāttāmaikkāran), who is chosen by lot from representatives selected from the five sub-divisions. Each subdivision selects ten representatives for the election. These ten then choose one from their group to be the local Nāttāmaikkāran or someone likely to become one. The five selected meet on a designated day with the castemen at the temple of the caste goddess Kāmākshi Amman. The names of these five men are written on five slips of paper, which, along with some blank slips, are placed before the goddess's shrine. A child, randomly chosen from the crowd, picks the slips, and the name that appears first is announced as the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, receiving a large turban tied on by the caste priest. This event, called Urumā Kattaradu, symbolizes his appointment as the general head of the caste. Then, lots are drawn to decide which of the remaining four will be the Anjivīttu Kāryasthan for the newly-elected chief. After the ceremony, betel leaf and areca nut are first given to the new officers, then to the local officers, and finally to the crowd present. This concludes the installation ceremony known as pattam-kattaradu. If needed, the expenses are covered by the temple funds, but a special collection is usually made for the occasion, which is said to be readily contributed to. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran is theoretically granted full authority over the caste, and all members are expected to follow his directives. He is the final judge in civil and marital matters. The divisional heads have the authority to decide such issues and report their decisions to the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, who typically confirms them. If either party disagrees with the decision, they are advised to take the matter to a designated court. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran can sometimes nominate and always has the right to confirm the selection of divisional heads. Along with the Kāryasthan and the local heads, he can appoint Nāttāmaikkārans and Kāryasthans for specific locations and delegate his powers. This often happens in areas with a significant caste presence, such as Sholavandan and Vattalagūndu in the Madura district. A unique custom is observed here: the Pallans, referred to as "the sons of the caste" in the villages of Madura and Tinnevelly districts, are called together to be informed that a specific village will become a local Anjivīttu Nāttānmai, and they need to have their own Nāttāmaikkāran and Kāryasthan. These are generally nominated by the Pallans and confirmed by the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran. From that point on, they can obtain new ploughs from the Kallans without charge, in exchange for a portion of the land's produce. The local Nāttāmaikkārans are generally under the supervision of the Kāryasthan of the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran, and as the saying goes, they are “bound down to” his words, as he wields substantial power and influence within the community. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran or his Kāryasthan can remove local officials from their positions, but this rarely happens and only when the sub-divisions strongly insist on it. To resign, the Nāttāmaikkāran or Kāryasthan presents betel leaf and areca nut, lays them before the Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran or his Kāryasthan, and prostrates himself before them. There is a trend for these positions to become hereditary, provided that the successors are affluent and respected by the community. The Anjivīttu Nāttāmaikkāran is entitled to be the first to receive betel at caste weddings, even those outside his region. His powers sharply contrast with those of the caste Guru, who lives in Tinnevelly and occasionally travels north. He is said to purify those charged with drinking alcohol, eating meat, or crossing the sea, as long as those individuals submit to his authority. If they do not, he does not even have the power of excommunication, which he nominally holds. He is not a Sanyāsi but a Grihastha or householder. He marries his daughters to members of the caste but does not eat in their homes.

Kammālans.

Kammālans.

Kammālans.

The dead are, as a rule, buried in a sitting posture, but, at the present day, cremation is sometimes resorted to. Death pollution, as among some other non-Brāhmanical castes, lasts for sixteen days. It is usual for a Pandāram to officiate at the death ceremonies. On the first day, the corpse is anointed with oil, and given a soap-nut bath. On the third day, five lingams are made with mud, of which four are placed in the four corners at the spot where the corpse was buried, and the fifth is placed in the centre. Food is distributed on the fifth day to Pandārams and the castemen. Srādh (annual death ceremony) is not as a rule performed, except in some of the larger towns.

The dead are usually buried sitting up, but nowadays, cremation is sometimes used. The period of mourning, similar to some other non-Brahmin castes, lasts for sixteen days. It's common for a Pandaram to lead the death rituals. On the first day, the body is anointed with oil and given a bath with soap nuts. On the third day, five lingams are made from mud; four are placed in the corners of the burial site, and the fifth is set in the center. On the fifth day, food is distributed to Pandarams and members of the community. The Sradh (annual death ceremony) is generally not performed, except in some of the larger towns.

The Kammālans profess the Saiva form of the Brāhman religion, and reverence greatly Pillaiyar, the favourite son of Siva. A few have come under the Lingāyat influence. The caste, however, has its own special goddess Kāmākshi Amma, who is commonly spoken of as Vriththi Daivam. She is worshipped by all the sub-divisions, and female children are frequently named after her. She is represented by the firepot and bellows-fire at which the castemen work, and presides over them. On all auspicious occasions, the first betel and dakshina (present of money) are set apart in her name, and sent to the pūjāri (priest) of the local temple dedicated [112]to her. Oaths are taken in her name, and disputes affecting the caste are settled before her temple. There also elections to caste offices are held. The exact connection of the goddess Kāmākshi with the caste is not known. There is, however, a vague tradition that she was one of the virgins who committed suicide by throwing herself into a fire, and was in consequence deified. Various village goddesses (grāma dēvata) are also worshipped, and, though the Kammālans profess to be vegetarians, animal sacrifices are offered to them. Among these deities are the Saptha Kannimar or seven virgins, Kōchadē Periyāndavan, and Periya Nayanar. Those who worship the Saptha Kannimar are known by the name of Mādāvaguppu, or the division that worships the mothers. Those who revere the other two deities mentioned are called Nādīkā Vamsathāl, or those descended from men who, through the seven virgins, attained eternal bliss. Kōchadē Periyāndavan is said to be a corruption of Or Jatē Periya Pāndyan, meaning the great Pāndya with the single lock. He is regarded as Vishnu, and Periya Nayanar is held to be a manifestation of Siva. The former is said to have been the person who invited the Tattāns (who called themselves Pāndya Tattāns) to settle in his kingdom. It is traditionally stated that they emigrated from the north, and settled in the Madura and Tinnevelly districts. An annual festival in honour of Kōchadē Periyāndavan is held in these districts, for the expenses in connection with which a subscription is raised among the five sub-divisions. The festival lasts over three days. On the first day, the image of the deified king is anointed with water, and a mixture of the juices of the mango, jāk (Artocarpus integrifolia), and plantain, called muppala pūjai. On the second day, rice is boiled, and offered to the god, and, on the last day, [113]a healthy ram is sacrificed to him. This festival is said to be held, in order to secure the caste as a whole against evils that might overtake it. Tac’chans (carpenters) usually kill, or cut the ear of a ram or sheep, whenever they commence the woodwork of a new house, and smear the blood of the animal on a pillar or wall of the house.

The Kammālans follow the Saiva branch of the Brāhman faith and have a deep respect for Pillaiyar, the beloved son of Siva. A few have been influenced by the Lingāyat tradition. However, the caste has its own special goddess, Kāmākshi Amma, often referred to as Vriththi Daivam. She is worshipped by all the sub-divisions, and female children are often named after her. She is represented by the firepot and the bellows fire where the castemen work, overseeing them. On all auspicious occasions, the first betel and dakshina (money gift) are set aside in her name and given to the pūjāri (priest) of the local temple dedicated to her. Oaths are taken in her name, and disputes within the caste are resolved at her temple. Elections for caste offices also take place there. The exact connection of goddess Kāmākshi with the caste is unclear, but there is a vague tradition that she was one of the virgins who committed suicide by jumping into a fire and was deified as a result. Various village goddesses (grāma dēvata) are also worshipped, and although the Kammālans claim to be vegetarians, they offer animal sacrifices to them. Among these deities are the Saptha Kannimar or seven virgins, Kōchadē Periyāndavan, and Periya Nayanar. Those who worship the Saptha Kannimar are known as Mādāvaguppu, or the division that worships the mothers. Those who honor the other two deities are called Nādīkā Vamsathāl, or descendants of men who, through the seven virgins, achieved eternal bliss. Kōchadē Periyāndavan is believed to be a corruption of Or Jatē Periya Pāndyan, meaning the great Pāndya with the single lock. He is seen as Vishnu, while Periya Nayanar is considered a manifestation of Siva. The former is said to have invited the Tattāns (who referred to themselves as Pāndya Tattāns) to settle in his kingdom. Tradition holds that they emigrated from the north and settled in the Madura and Tinnevelly districts. An annual festival in honor of Kōchadē Periyāndavan is celebrated in these regions, funded by subscriptions from the five sub-divisions. The festival lasts for three days. On the first day, the statue of the deified king is anointed with water and a mixture of juices from mango, jackfruit (Artocarpus integrifolia), and plantain, called muppala pūjai. On the second day, rice is cooked and offered to the god, and on the last day, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] a healthy ram is sacrificed to him. This festival is claimed to be held to protect the caste as a whole from potential misfortunes. Tac’chans (carpenters) usually kill or cut the ear of a ram or sheep whenever they start the woodwork for a new house, smearing the animal's blood on a pillar or wall of the house.

The Kammālans claim to be descended from Visvakarma, the architect of the gods, and, in some places, claim to be superior to Brāhmans, calling the latter Gō-Brāhmans, and themselves Visva Brāhmans. Visvakarma is said to have had five sons, named Manu, Maya, Silpa, Tvashtra, and Daivagna. These five sons were the originators of the five crafts, which their descendants severally follow. Accordingly, some engage in smithy work, and are called Manus; others, in their turn, devote their attention to carpentry. These are named Mayas. Others again, who work at stone-carving, are known as Silpis. Those who do metal work are Tvashtras, and those who are engaged in making jewelry are known as Visvagnas or Daivagnas. According to one story of the origin of the Kammālans, they are the descendants of the issue of a Brāhman and a Bēri Chetti woman. Hence the proverb that the Kammālans and the Bēri Chettis are one. Another story, recorded in the Mackenzie manuscripts, which is current all over the Tamil country, is briefly as follows. In the town of Māndāpuri, the Kammālans of the five divisions formerly lived closely united together. They were employed by all sorts of people, as there were no other artificers in the country, and charged very high rates for their wares. They feared and respected no king. This offended the kings of the country, who combined against them. As the fort in which the Kammālans concealed themselves, called Kāntakkōttai, was entirely constructed of loadstone, all [114]the weapons were drawn away by it. The king then promised a big reward to anyone who would burn down the fort, and at length the Dēva-dāsīs (courtesans) of a temple undertook to do this, and took betel and nut in signification of their promise. The king built a fort for them opposite Kāntakkōttai, and they attracted the Kammālans by their singing, and had children by them. One of the Dēva-dāsīs at length succeeded in extracting from a young Kammālan the secret that, if the fort was surrounded with varaghu straw and set on fire, it would be destroyed. The king ordered that this should be done, and, in attempting to escape from the sudden conflagration, some of the Kammālans lost their lives. Others reached the ships, and escaped by sea, or were captured and put to death. In consequence of this, artificers ceased to exist in the country. One pregnant Kammālan woman, however, took refuge in the house of a Bēri Chetti, and escaped decapitation by being passed off as his daughter. The country was sorely troubled owing to the want of artificers, and agriculture, manufactures, and weaving suffered a great deal. One of the kings wanted to know if any Kammālan escaped the general destruction, and sent round his kingdom a piece of coral possessing a tortuous aperture running through it, and a piece of thread. A big reward was promised to anyone who should succeed in passing the thread through the coral. At last, the boy born of the Kammālan woman in the Chetti’s house undertook to do it. He placed the coral over the mouth of an ant-hole, and, having steeped the thread in sugar, laid it down at some distance from the hole. The ants took the thread, and drew it through the coral. The king, being pleased with the boy, sent him presents, and gave him more work to do. This he performed with the assistance of his mother, and satisfied [115]the king. The king, however, grew suspicious, and, having sent for the Chetti, enquired concerning the boy’s parentage. The Chetti thereon detailed the story of his birth. The king provided him with the means for making ploughshares on a large scale, and got him married to the daughter of a Chetti, and made gifts of land for the maintenance of the couple. The Chetti woman bore him five sons, who followed the five branches of work now carried out by the Kammālan caste. The king gave them the title of Panchayudhattar, or those of the five kinds of weapons. They now intermarry with each other, and, as children of the Chetti caste, wear the sacred thread. The members of the caste who fled by sea are said to have gone to China, or, according to another version, to Chingaladvīpam, or Ceylon, where Kammālans are found at the present day. In connection with the above story, it may be noted that, though ordinarily two different castes do not live in the same house, yet Bēri Chettis and Kammālans so live together. There is a close connection between the Kammālans and Acharapākam Chettis, who are a section of the Bēri Chetti caste. Kammālans and Acharapākam Chettis interdine; both bury their dead in a sitting posture; and the tāli (marriage badge) used by both is alike in size and make, and unlike that used by the generality of the Bēri Chetti caste. The Acharapākam Chettis are known as Malighe Chettis, and are considered to be the descendants of those Bēri Chettis who brought up the Kammālan children, and intermarried with them. Even now, in the city of Madras, when the Bēri Chettis assemble for the transaction of caste business, the notice summoning the meeting excludes the Malighe Chettis, who can neither vote nor receive votes at elections, meetings, etc., of the [116]Kandasāmi temple, which every other Bēri Chetti has a right to.

The Kammālans say they are descended from Visvakarma, the godly architect, and in some places claim to be superior to Brāhmans, referring to the latter as Gō-Brāhmans and themselves as Visva Brāhmans. Visvakarma is said to have had five sons: Manu, Maya, Silpa, Tvashtra, and Daivagna. These five sons started the five crafts that their descendants continue today. Some focus on blacksmithing and are called Manus; others concentrate on carpentry, known as Mayas. Another group specializes in stone-carving and are called Silpis. Those who work with metal are Tvashtras, and those who make jewelry are Visvagnas or Daivagnas. According to one origin story of the Kammālans, they are the descendants of a Brāhman and a Bēri Chetti woman, which is why there's a saying that the Kammālans and the Bēri Chettis are the same. Another story, found in the Mackenzie manuscripts and popular throughout Tamil Nadu, is as follows: In the town of Māndāpuri, the Kammālans from the five divisions lived closely together. They were employed by everyone since there were no other artisans in the area and charged very high prices for their goods. They had no fear or respect for any king. This angered the kings of the land, who united against them. The fort where the Kammālans hid, called Kāntakkōttai, was made entirely of loadstone, which pulled all weapons away from it. The king then promised a large reward to anyone who could burn down the fort. Eventually, the Dēva-dāsīs (courtesans) of a temple agreed to do this, taking betel and nut as a sign of their promise. The king built a fort across from Kāntakkōttai for them, and they lured the Kammālans with their singing, becoming pregnant by them. One of the Dēva-dāsīs eventually learned from a young Kammālan that if the fort was surrounded with varaghu straw and set on fire, it would be destroyed. The king ordered this to be done, and during the chaos of the fire, some Kammālans died. Others got to ships and escaped by sea, or were captured and killed. As a result, artisans disappeared from the country. One pregnant Kammālan woman, however, took refuge in a Bēri Chetti’s home and avoided execution by being passed off as his daughter. The country suffered greatly due to the lack of artisans, affecting agriculture, manufacturing, and weaving. One of the kings wanted to know if any Kammālan had survived the destruction and sent a piece of coral with a twist running through it and a piece of thread throughout his kingdom. A large reward was promised to anyone who could pass the thread through the coral. Eventually, the boy born to the Kammālan woman in the Chetti's house decided to try. He placed the coral over an ant hole and dipped the thread in sugar, laying it a little way from the hole. The ants took the thread and drew it through the coral. The king was pleased with the boy, sent him gifts, and gave him more tasks. He completed them with his mother’s help and pleased the king. However, the king became suspicious and called for the Chetti to ask about the boy's parentage. The Chetti revealed the story of his birth. The king then provided resources for the boy to create ploughshares on a large scale, arranged for him to marry a Chetti's daughter, and gave land to support the couple. The Chetti woman had five sons, who continued the five types of work now associated with the Kammālan caste. The king titled them Panchayudhattar, meaning those of the five kinds of weapons. They now intermarry and, as children of the Chetti caste, wear the sacred thread. Those from the caste who fled by sea are said to have gone to China or, according to another version, to Chingaladvīpam (Ceylon), where Kammālans can still be found today. In relation to this story, it's notable that while normally two different castes don't live in the same house, Bēri Chettis and Kammālans do coexist. There's a strong connection between the Kammālans and Acharapākam Chettis, a subgroup of the Bēri Chetti caste. Kammālans and Acharapākam Chettis dine together; both bury their dead in a seated position; and the tāli (marriage symbol) used by both is the same size and style, differing from that used by the majority of the Bēri Chetti caste. The Acharapākam Chettis are also called Malighe Chettis and are thought to be the descendants of those Bēri Chettis who raised the Kammālan children and intermarried with them. Even now, in the city of Madras, when the Bēri Chettis gather for caste meetings, the notice for the meeting excludes the Malighe Chettis, who cannot vote or be voted for in elections or meetings of the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Kandasāmi temple, a right granted to every other Bēri Chetti.

It may be noted that the Dēva-dāsīs, whose treachery is said to have led to the destruction of the Kammālan caste, were Kaikōlans by caste, and that their illegitimate children, like their progenitors, became weavers. The weavers of South India, according to old Tamil poems, were formerly included in the Kammiyan or Kammālan caste.70 Several inscriptions show that, as late as 1013 A.D., the Kammālans were treated as an inferior caste, and, in consequence, were confined to particular parts of villages.71 A later inscription gives an order of one of the Chōla kings that they should be permitted to blow conches, and beat drums at their weddings and funerals, wear sandals, and plaster their houses.72 “It is not difficult,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,73 “to account for the low position held by the Kammālans, for it must be remembered that, in those early times, the military castes in India, as elsewhere, looked down upon all engaged in labour, whether skilled or otherwise. With the decline of the military power, however, it was natural that a useful caste like the Kammālans should generally improve its position, and the reaction from their long oppression has led them to make the exaggerated claims described above, which are ridiculed by every other caste, high or low.” The claims here referred to are that they are descended from Visvakarma, the architect of the gods, and are Brāhmans.

It’s worth noting that the Dēva-dāsīs, whose betrayal is said to have caused the downfall of the Kammālan caste, were originally Kaikōlans by caste. Their illegitimate children, like their ancestors, became weavers. According to ancient Tamil poems, the weavers of South India used to be part of the Kammiyan or Kammālan caste. Several inscriptions indicate that, as late as 1013 A.D., the Kammālans were regarded as an inferior caste and were restricted to certain areas of villages. A later inscription states that one of the Chōla kings ordered they should be allowed to blow conches, beat drums at their weddings and funerals, wear sandals, and plaster their homes. “It’s not hard,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, “to understand the low status of the Kammālans, as it must be remembered that, in those early times, military castes in India, like elsewhere, looked down on those engaged in any kind of labor, whether skilled or not. However, with the decline of military power, it was natural for a useful caste like the Kammālans to generally improve their status, and the backlash from their long oppression has led them to make the inflated claims described above, which are mocked by every other caste, high or low.” The claims referred to here are that they are descended from Visvakarma, the architect of the gods, and are Brāhmans.

From a note by Mr. F. R. Hemingway, I gather that the friendship between the Muhammadans and Kammālans, who call each other māni (paternal uncle) [117]“originated in the fact that a holy Muhammadan, named Ibrahim Nabi, was brought up in the house of a Kammālan, because his father was afraid that he would be killed by a Hindu king named Namadūta, who had been advised by his soothsayers that he would thus avoid a disaster, which was about to befall his kingdom. The Kammālan gave his daughter to the father of Ibrahim in exchange. Another story (only told by Kammālans) is to the effect that the Kammālans were once living in a magnetic castle, called Kānda Kōttai, which could only be destroyed by burning it with varagu straw; and that the Musalmans captured it by sending Musalman prostitutes into the town, to wheedle the secret out of the Kammālans. The friendship, according to the story, sprang up because the Kammālans consorted with the Musalman women.”

From a note by Mr. F. R. Hemingway, I understand that the friendship between the Muslims and Kammālans, who refer to each other as māni (paternal uncle) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], began when a holy Muslim named Ibrahim Nabi was raised in a Kammālan home. His father did this out of fear that a Hindu king named Namadūta would have him killed, as his soothsayers had advised that this would prevent a disaster about to hit his kingdom. In exchange for this protection, the Kammālan gave his daughter to Ibrahim's father. According to another story (which is told only by Kammālans), the Kammālans once lived in a magical fort called Kānda Kōttai, which could only be destroyed by burning it with varagu straw. The Muslims managed to take it by sending Muslim women into the town to charm the Kammālans and get them to reveal the secret. According to the tale, the friendship developed because the Kammālans associated with the Muslim women.

The Kammālans belong to the left hand, as opposed to the right hand faction. The origin of this distinction of castes is lost in obscurity, but, according to one version, it arose out of a dispute between the Kammālans and Vellālas. The latter claimed the former as their Jātipillaigal or caste dependents, while the former claimed the latter as their own dependents. The fight grew so fierce that the Chōla king of Conjeeveram ranged these two castes and their followers on opposite sides, and enquired into their claims. The Kammālans, and those who sided with them, stood on the left of the king, and the Vellālas and their allies on the right. The king is said to have decided the case against the Kammālans, who then dispersed in different directions. According to another legend, a Kammālan who had two sons, one by a Balija woman, and the other by his Kammālan wife, was unjustly slain by a king of Conjeeveram, and was avenged by his two sons, who killed the [118]king and divided his body. The Kammālan son took his head and used it as a weighing pan, while the Balija son made a pedler’s carpet out of the skin, and threads out of the sinews for stringing bangles. A quarrel arose, because each thought the other had got the best of the division, and all the other castes joined in, and took the side of either the Kammālan or the Balija. Right and left hand dancing-girls, temples, and mandapams, are still in existence at Conjeeveram, and elsewhere in the Tamil country. Thus, at Tanjore, there are the Kammāla Tēvadiyāls, or dancing-girls. As the Kammālans belong to the left-hand section, dancing-girls of the right-hand section will not perform before them, or at their houses. Similarly, musicians of the right-hand section will not play in Kammālan houses. In olden days, Kammālans were not allowed to ride in palanquins through the streets of the right hands. If they did, a riot was the result. Such riots were common during the eighteenth century. Thus, Fryer refers to one of these which occurred at Masulipatam, when the contumacy of the Kamsalas (Telugu artisans) led to their being put down by the other castes with the aid of the Moors.

The Kammālans are part of the left-hand faction, as opposed to the right-hand faction. The exact origins of this caste distinction are unclear, but one version claims it came from a conflict between the Kammālans and Vellālas. The Vellālas claimed the Kammālans as their caste dependents, while the Kammālans argued that the Vellālas were their dependents. The dispute escalated so much that the Chōla king of Conjeeveram placed these two castes and their supporters on opposite sides and investigated their claims. The Kammālans and their supporters stood to the king's left, while the Vellālas and their allies were on the right. The king supposedly ruled against the Kammālans, who then scattered in different directions. According to another legend, a Kammālan with two sons—one from a Balija woman and the other from his Kammālan wife—was unjustly killed by a king of Conjeeveram. His two sons avenged him by killing the king and dividing his body. The Kammālan son used the king's head as a weighing pan, while the Balija son turned the skin into a peddler’s carpet and made threads from the sinews to string bangles. A quarrel broke out because each brother believed the other had taken the better share, leading all the other castes to take sides with either the Kammālans or the Balijas. Right-hand and left-hand dancing girls, temples, and mandapams still exist in Conjeeveram and other parts of Tamil Nadu. For instance, in Tanjore, there are the Kammāla Tēvadiyāls, or dancing girls. Since the Kammālans belong to the left-hand section, dancing girls from the right-hand section will not perform for them or in their homes. Similarly, musicians from the right-hand section will not play in Kammālan households. In the past, Kammālans were not permitted to ride in palanquins through the streets of the right-hand caste area. If they did, it often led to riots, which were common in the eighteenth century. Fryer recounts one such incident in Masulipatam when the defiance of the Kamsalas (Telugu artisans) led to their being suppressed by other castes with the help of the Moors.

The Kammālans call themselves Āchāri and Paththar, which are equivalent to the Brāhman titles Ācharya and Bhatta, and claim a knowledge of the Vēdas. Their own priests officiate at marriages, funerals, and on other ceremonial occasions. They wear the sacred thread, which they usually don on the Upakarmam day, though some observe the regular thread investiture ceremony. Most of them claim to be vegetarians. Non-Brāhmans do not treat them as Brāhmans, and do not salute them with the namaskāram (obeisance). Their women, unlike those of other castes, throw the end of their body-cloth [119]over the right shoulder, and are conspicuous by the nose ornament known as the nattu.

The Kammālans refer to themselves as Āchāri and Paththar, which are similar to the Brahmin titles Ācharya and Bhatta, and they assert that they have knowledge of the Vedas. Their own priests conduct marriages, funerals, and other ceremonial events. They wear the sacred thread, which they typically put on during the Upakarmam day, although some follow the standard thread initiation ceremony. Most of them say they are vegetarians. Non-Brahmins do not recognize them as Brahmins and do not show them respect with the namaskāram (obeisance). Their women, unlike those of other castes, drape the end of their body-cloth [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]over the right shoulder and are easily identified by the nose ornament called the nattu.

In connection with the professional calling of the Kammālans, Surgeon-Major W. R. Cornish writes as follows.74 “The artisans, who are smiths or carpenters, usually bring up their children to the same pursuits. It might have been supposed that the hereditary influence in the course of generations would have tended to excellence in the several pursuits, but it has not been so. Ordinary native work in metal, stone, and wood, is coarse and rough, and the designs are of the stereotyped form. The improvement in handicraft work of late years has been entirely due to European influence. The constructors of railways have been great educators of artisans. The quality of stone-masonry, brick-work, carpentry, and smith-work has vastly improved within the last twenty years, and especially in districts where railway works have been in progress. The gold and silver smiths of Southern India are a numerous body. Their chief employment consists in setting and making native jewellery. Some of their designs are ingenious, but here again the ordinary work for native customers is often noticeable for a want of finish, and, with the exception of a few articles made for the European markets, there is no evidence of progressive improvement in design or execution. That the native artists are capable of improvement as a class is evident from their skill and ingenuity in copying designs set before them, and from the excellent finish of their work under European supervision; but there must be a demand for highly finished work before the goldsmiths will have generally improved. The wearers of jewellery in India [120]look more to the intrinsic value of an article, than to the excellence of the design or workmanship. So that there is very little encouragement for artistic display.” The collection of silver jewelry at the Madras Museum, which was made in connection with the Colonial and Indian Exhibition, London, 1886, bears testimony to the artistic skill of the silversmiths. Recently, Colonel Townshend, Superintendent of the Madras Gun Carriage Factory, has expressed his opinion75 that “good as the Bombay smiths are, the blacksmiths of Southern India are the best in Hindustan, and the pick of them run English smiths very close, not only in skill, but in speed of outturn.”

In relation to the professional calling of the Kammālans, Surgeon-Major W. R. Cornish states, “The artisans, whether they are blacksmiths or carpenters, typically raise their children in the same trades. One might think that this hereditary influence over generations would lead to excellence in these fields, but that hasn’t been the case. Ordinary local work in metal, stone, and wood is often coarse and rough, with designs that are quite standard. Any advancements in craftsmanship in recent years have come solely from European influence. The builders of railways have played a significant role in educating artisans. The quality of stone masonry, brickwork, carpentry, and blacksmithing has vastly improved over the last twenty years, particularly in areas where railway projects have been underway. The gold and silversmiths of Southern India form a large group. Their main work involves setting and creating native jewelry. Some of their designs are quite clever, but once again, the typical work for local clients often lacks finish, and aside from a few pieces aimed at European markets, there’s little sign of progressive improvement in design or execution. The fact that local artists can improve as a group is clear from their skill and creativity in reproducing designs presented to them, and from the high standards of their work under European oversight; yet, there must be a demand for high-quality work before goldsmiths will broadly enhance their craft. Jewelry wearers in India look more at the inherent value of pieces than at the quality of the design or craftsmanship. Therefore, there’s very little incentive for artistic expression.” The collection of silver jewelry at the Madras Museum, created for the Colonial and Indian Exhibition in London, 1886, attests to the artistic talent of the silversmiths. Recently, Colonel Townshend, Superintendent of the Madras Gun Carriage Factory, has shared his view that “while the smiths in Bombay are skilled, the blacksmiths of Southern India are the best in Hindustan, and the top among them can match English blacksmiths closely, not only in skill but also in efficiency.”

Anyone who has seen the celebrated temples of Southern India, for example, the Madura and Tanjore temples, and the carving on temple cars, can form some idea of the skill of South Indian stone-masons and carpenters. The following note on idols and idol-makers is taken from a recent article.76 “The idol-maker’s craft, like most of the other callings in this country, is a hereditary one, and a workman who has earned some reputation for himself, or has had an ancestor of renown, is a made man. The Sthapathi, as he is called in Sanskrit, claims high social rank among the representatives of the artisan castes. Of course he wears a heavy sacred thread, and affects Brāhman ways of living. He does not touch flesh, and liquor rarely passes down his throat, as he recognises that a clear eye and steady hand are the first essentials of success in his calling. There are two sorts of idols in every temple, mulavigrahas or stone idols which are fixed to the ground, and utsavavigrahas or metal idols used in processions. [121]In the worst equipped pagoda there are at least a dozen idols of every variety. They do duty for generations, for, though they become black and begrimed with oil and ashes, they are rarely replaced, as age and dirt but add to their sanctity. But now and then they get desecrated for some reason, and fresh ones have to be installed in their stead; or it may be that extensions are made in the temple, and godlings in the Hindu Pantheon, not accommodated within its precincts till then, have to be carved and consecrated. It is on such occasions that the hands of the local Sthapathi are full of work, and his workshop is as busy as a bee-hive. In the larger temples, such as the one at Madura, the idols in which are to be counted by the score, there are Sthapathis on the establishment receiving fixed emoluments. Despite the smallness of the annual salary, the office of temple Sthapathi is an eagerly coveted one, for, among other privileges, the fortunate individual enjoys that of having his workshop located in the temple premises, and thereby secures an advertisement that is not to be despised. Besides, he is not debarred from adding to his pecuniary resources by doing outside work when his hands are idle. Among stone images, the largest demand is for representations of Ganapati or Vignesvara (the elephant god), whose popularity extends throughout India. Every hamlet has at least one little temple devoted to his exclusive worship, and his shrines are found in the most unlikely places. Travellers who have had occasion to pass along the sandy roads of the Tanjore district must be familiar with the idols of the god of the protuberant paunch, which they pass every half mile or so, reposing under the shade of avenue trees with an air of self-satisfaction suffusing their elephantine features. Among other idols called into being for the purpose of [122]wayside installation in Southern India, may be mentioned those of Vīran, the Madura godling, who requires offerings of liquor, Māriamma, the small-pox goddess, and the evil spirit Sangili Karappan. Representations are also carved of nāgas or serpents, and installed by the dozen round the village asvatha tree (Ficus religiosa). Almost every week, the mail steamer to Rangoon takes a heavy consignment of stone and metal idols commissioned by the South Indian settlers in Burma for purposes of domestic and public worship. The usual posture of mulavigrahas is a standing one, the figure of Vishnu in the Srirangam temple, which represents the deity as lying down at full length, being an exception to this rule. The normal height is less than four feet, some idols, however, being of gigantic proportions. Considering the very crude material on which he works, and the primitive methods of stone-carving which he continues to favour, the expert craftsman achieves quite a surprising degree of smoothness and polish. It takes him several weeks of unremitting toil to produce a vigraha that absolutely satisfies his critical eye. I have seen him engaged for hours at a stretch on the trunk of Vignesvara or the matted tuft of a Rishi. The casting of utsavavigrahas involves a greater variety of process than the carving of stone figures. The substance usually employed is a compound of brass, copper and lead, small quantities of silver and gold being added, means permitting. The required figure is first moulded in some plastic substance, such as wax or tallow, and coated with a thin layer of soft wet clay, in which one or two openings are left. When the clay is dry, the figure is placed in a kiln, and the red-hot liquid metal is poured into the hollow created by the running out of the melted wax. The furnace is then [123]extinguished, the metal left to cool and solidify, and the clay coating removed. A crude approximation to the image required is thus obtained, which is improved upon with file and chisel, till the finished product is a far more artistic article than the figure that was enclosed within the clay. It is thus seen that every idol is made in one piece, but spare hands and feet are supplied, if desired. Whenever necessary, the Archaka (temple priest) conceals the limbs with cloth and flowers, and, inserting at the proper places little pieces of wood which are held in position by numerous bits of string, screws on the spare parts, so as to fit in with the posture that the idol is to assume during any particular procession.”

Anyone who has seen the famous temples of Southern India, like the Madura and Tanjore temples, along with the carvings on temple cars, can get an idea of the skill of South Indian stone masons and carpenters. The following note on idols and idol-makers comes from a recent article.76 “The craft of idol-making, like many other trades in this region, is passed down through families, and a worker who has earned some reputation or has a notable ancestor is well respected. The Sthapathi, as he's called in Sanskrit, holds a high social rank among artisan castes. Naturally, he wears a heavy sacred thread and adopts the lifestyle of Brāhmans. He doesn't eat meat and rarely drinks alcohol, understanding that a clear eye and steady hand are essential for success in his work. There are two types of idols in every temple: mulavigrahas or stone idols that are fixed to the ground, and utsavavigrahas or metal idols used in processions. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Even the simplest pagoda contains at least a dozen idols of various kinds. They serve for generations; despite becoming blackened with oil and ashes, they are seldom replaced since age and dirt enhance their sanctity. Occasionally, they are desecrated for some reason and need to be replaced with new ones; or perhaps the temple undergoes expansions, necessitating the carving and consecration of additional deities from the Hindu Pantheon. It is during these times that the local Sthapathi is busy, and his workshop resembles a hive of activity. In larger temples, like the one in Madura, where the number of idols can be counted by the dozens, there are Sthapathis on staff who receive a regular salary. Even though the annual salary is modest, the position of temple Sthapathi is highly sought after, as one of the perks includes having his workshop in the temple grounds, essentially providing valuable exposure. Additionally, he can supplement his income by taking on outside work when he has downtime. Among stone images, the most sought-after figures are those of Ganapati or Vignesvara (the elephant god), whose popularity spans all of India. Every small village typically has at least one little temple dedicated to his veneration, and his shrines can be found in the most unexpected places. Travelers who have traversed the sandy roads of the Tanjore district are likely familiar with the idols of the rotund god they encounter every half mile, resting under the shade of trees, exuding an air of self-satisfaction with their elephantine features. Among other idols established for [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]wayside installation in Southern India, there are those of Vīran, the Madura deity who requires liquor offerings, Māriamma, the goddess of smallpox, and the malevolent spirit Sangili Karappan. Serpentine nāgas are also carved and installed by the dozen around the village asvatha tree (Ficus religiosa). Almost every week, a mail steamer to Rangoon transports a heavy load of stone and metal idols ordered by South Indian settlers in Burma for domestic and public worship. Mulavigrahas typically stand under four feet tall, although some are of gigantic proportions. Considering the crude materials he works with and the primitive stone-carving techniques he still favors, the skilled artisan achieves a surprisingly smooth and polished result. It takes him several weeks of continuous effort to create a vigraha that meets his high standards. I have seen him working for hours on the trunk of Vignesvara or the matted hair of a Rishi. Creating utsavavigrahas involves a much more complex process than carving stone figures. The materials usually consist of a mix of brass, copper, and lead, with small amounts of silver and gold if budget allows. The desired figure is first molded in a pliable material, like wax or tallow, and coated with a thin layer of soft wet clay with a few openings left. Once the clay dries, the figure is placed in a kiln, and molten metal is poured into the hollow created by the melted wax. The furnace is then [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]turned off, allowing the metal to cool and solidify, after which the clay coating is removed. This results in a rough approximation of the desired image, which is refined with files and chisels until the finished product is far more artistic than the original figure encased in the clay. Thus, every idol is made as a single piece, though additional hands and feet can be attached if needed. Whenever necessary, the Archaka (temple priest) covers the limbs with cloth and flowers, inserting small pieces of wood at the appropriate places, held in position by various bits of string, to attach the spare parts in a way that aligns with the posture the idol is meant to display during any specific procession.”

An association, called the Visvakarma Kulābhimana Sabha, was established in the city of Madras by the Kammālans in 1903. The objects thereof were the advancement of the community as a whole on intellectual and industrial lines, the provision of practical measures in guarding the interests, welfare and prospects of the community, and the improvement of the arts and sciences peculiar to them by opening industrial schools and workshops, etc.

An association known as the Visvakarma Kulābhimana Sabha was founded in the city of Madras by the Kammālans in 1903. Its goals were to promote the overall advancement of the community in intellectual and industrial areas, implement practical measures to protect the community's interests, welfare, and future prospects, and enhance the unique arts and sciences by establishing industrial schools and workshops, among other initiatives.

Of proverbs relating to the artisan classes, the following may be noted:—

Of proverbs related to the skilled trades, the following can be noted:—

The goldsmith who has a thousand persons to answer. This in reference to the delay in finishing a job, owing to his taking more orders than he can accomplish in a given time.

The goldsmith who has a thousand people to respond to. This refers to the delay in completing a job because he's taken on more orders than he can handle in a certain time.

The goldsmith knows what ornaments are of fine gold, i.e., knows who are the rich men of a place.

The goldsmith knows which pieces are made of high-quality gold, i.e. knows who the wealthy people in a location are.

It must either be with the goldsmith, or in the pot in which he melts gold, i.e., it will be found somewhere in the house. Said to one who is in search of something that cannot be found. [124]

It has to either be with the goldsmith or in the pot where he melts gold, i.e., it will be somewhere in the house. This is said to someone who is looking for something that can’t be found. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Goldsmiths put inferior gold into the refining-pot.

Goldsmiths added lower-quality gold to the refining pot.

If, successful, pour it into a mould; if not, pour it into the melting pot. The Rev. H. Jensen explains77 that the goldsmith examines the gold after melting it. If it is free from dross, he pours it into the mould; if it is still impure, it goes back into the pot.

If it works out, pour it into a mold; if not, pour it into the melting pot. The Rev. H. Jensen explains77 that the goldsmith looks at the gold after melting it. If it’s free of impurities, he pours it into the mold; if it’s still tainted, it goes back into the pot.

The goldsmith will steal a quarter of the gold of even his own mother.

The goldsmith would even steal a quarter of his own mother's gold.

Stolen gold may be either with the goldsmith, or in his fire-pot.

Stolen gold could either be with the goldsmith or in his furnace.

If the ear of the cow of a Kammālan is cut and examined, some wax will be found in it. It is said that the Kammālan is in the habit of substituting sealing-wax for gold, and thus cheating people. The proverb warns them not to accept even a cow from a Kammālan. Or, according to another explanation, a Kammālan made a figure of a cow, which was so lifelike that a Brāhman purchased it as a live animal with his hard-earned money, and, discovering his mistake, went mad. Since that time, people were warned to examine an animal offered for sale by Kammālans by cutting off its ears. A variant of the proverb is that, though you buy a Kammālan’s cow only after cutting its ears, he will have put red wax in its ears (so that, if they are cut into, they will look like red flesh).

If you cut and check the ear of a Kammālan's cow, you'll find some wax in it. It's said that Kammālans often use sealing wax instead of gold to trick people. The saying advises against accepting even a cow from a Kammālan. Alternatively, one explanation is that a Kammālan made a lifelike figure of a cow, which a Brāhman bought as a real animal with his hard-earned cash, and when he realized his mistake, he went crazy. Since then, people have been warned to check any animal sold by Kammālans by cutting off its ears. Another version of the saying is that even if you buy a Kammālan's cow after cutting its ears, he will have used red wax in them to make it look like real flesh when you cut into it.

What has a dog to do in a blacksmith’s shop? Said of a man who attempts to do work he is not fitted for.

What does a dog have to do in a blacksmith’s shop? This is said about a person who tries to do a job they aren't suited for.

When the blacksmith sees that the iron is soft, he will raise himself to the stroke.

When the blacksmith notices that the iron is soft, he will lift himself to make the blow.

Will the blacksmith be alarmed at the sound of a hammer? [125]

Will the blacksmith be startled by the sound of a hammer? [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

When a child is born in a blacksmith’s family, sugar must be dealt out in the street of the dancing-girls. This has reference to the legendary relation of the Kammālans and Kaikōlans.

When a child is born into a blacksmith's family, sugar must be given out in the street of the dancers. This refers to the legendary connection between the Kammālans and Kaikōlans.

A blacksmith’s shop, and the place in which donkeys roll themselves, are alike.

A blacksmith's shop and the spot where donkeys roll around are similar.

The carpenters and blacksmiths are to be relegated, i.e., to the part of the village called the Kammālachēri.

The carpenters and blacksmiths are to be assigned to the part of the village called the Kammālachēri.

What if the carpenter’s wife has become a widow? This would seem to refer to the former practice of widow remarriage.

What if the carpenter’s wife has become a widow? This seems to refer to the old practice of widows getting remarried.

The carpenter wants (his wood) too long, and the blacksmith wants (his iron) too short, i.e., a carpenter can easily shorten a piece of wood, and a blacksmith can easily hammer out a piece of iron.

The carpenter wants his wood too long, and the blacksmith wants his iron too short, i.e., a carpenter can easily shorten a piece of wood, and a blacksmith can easily hammer out a piece of iron.

When a Kammālan buys cloth, the stuff he buys is so thin that it does not hide the hair on his legs.

When a Kammālan buys cloth, the fabric he gets is so thin that it doesn't hide the hair on his legs.

Kammālan (Malayālam).—“The Kammālans of Malabar,” Mr. Francis writes,78 “are artisans, like those referred to immediately above, but they take a lower position than the Kammālans and Kamsalas of the other coast, or the Pānchālas of the Canarese country. They do not claim to be Brāhmans or wear the sacred thread, and they accept the position of a polluting caste, not being allowed into the temples or into Brāhman houses. The highest sub-division is Asāri, the men of which are carpenters, and wear the thread at certain ceremonies connected with house-building.”

Kammālan (Malayālam).—“The Kammālans of Malabar,” Mr. Francis writes, 78 “are artisans, similar to those mentioned earlier, but they hold a lower status than the Kammālans and Kamsalas from the other coast, or the Pānchālas from the Canarese region. They don’t claim to be Brāhmans or wear the sacred thread, and they accept their status as a polluting caste, which prevents them from entering temples or Brāhman homes. The highest sub-division is Asāri, whose members are carpenters and wear the thread during specific ceremonies related to house construction.”

According to Mr. F. Fawcett “the orthodox number of classes of Kammālans is five. But the artisans do not admit that the workers in leather belong to the [126]guild, and say that there are only four classes. According to them, the fifth class was composed of coppersmiths, who, after the exodus, remained in Izhuva land, and did not return thence with them to Malabar.79 Nevertheless, they always speak of themselves as the Ayen Kudi or five-house Kammālans. The carpenters say that eighteen families of their community remained behind in Izhuva land. Some of these returned long afterwards, but they were not allowed to rejoin the caste. They are known as Puzhi Tachan or sand carpenters, and Pathinettanmar or the eighteen people. There are four families of this class now living at or near Parpan gadi. They are carpenters, but the Asāris treat them as outcastes.”

According to Mr. F. Fawcett, “the conventional number of Kammālan classes is five. However, the artisans don’t agree that leather workers belong to the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] guild and claim there are only four classes. They believe the fifth class was made up of coppersmiths who stayed in Izhuva land after the exodus and didn’t return to Malabar with them. 79 Still, they always refer to themselves as the Ayen Kudi or five-house Kammālans. The carpenters note that eighteen families from their community remained in Izhuva land. Some of them came back much later, but they were not allowed to rejoin the caste. They are called Puzhi Tachan or sand carpenters, and Pathinettanmar or the eighteen people. Currently, there are four families from this class living at or near Parpan gadi. They are carpenters, but the Asāris treat them as outcasts.”

For the following note on Malabar Kammālans I am indebted to Mr. S. Appadorai Iyer. The five artisan classes, or Ayinkudi Kammālans, are made up of the following:—

For the following note on Malabar Kammālans, I want to thank Mr. S. Appadorai Iyer. The five artisan classes, or Ayinkudi Kammālans, consist of the following:—

  • Asāri, carpenters.
  • Mūsāri, braziers.
  • Tattān, goldsmiths.
  • Karumān, blacksmiths.
  • Chembotti or Chempotti, coppersmiths.

The name Chembotti is derived from chembu, copper, and kotti, he who beats. They are, according to Mr. Francis, “coppersmiths in Malabar, who are distinct from the Malabar Kammālans. They are supposed to be descendants of men who made copper idols for temples, and so rank above the Kammālans in social position, and about equally with the lower sections of the Nāyars.”

The name Chembotti comes from chembu, meaning copper, and kotti, meaning he who beats. According to Mr. Francis, they are "coppersmiths in Malabar, who are different from the Malabar Kammālans. They are believed to be descendants of those who made copper idols for temples, which gives them a higher social status than the Kammālans, and they rank about equally with the lower sections of the Nāyars."

The Kammālans will not condescend to eat food at the hands of Kurups, Tōlkollans, Pulluvans, Mannāns, or Tandans. But a Tandan thinks it equally beneath [127]his dignity to accept food from a Kammālan. The Kammālans believe themselves to be indigenous in Malabar, and boast that their system of polyandry is the result of the sojourn of the exiled Pāndavas, with their common wife Pānchāli, and their mother Kunthi, in the forest of the Walluvanād division. They say that the destruction of the Pāndavas was attempted in the Arakkuparamba amsam of this division, and that the Tac’chans (artisans) were given as a reward by the Kurus the enjoyment of Tacchanattukara amsam. They state further that the Pāndus lived for some time at the village of Bhīmanād, and went to the Attapādi valley, where they deposited their cooking utensils at the spot where the water falls from a height of several hundred feet. This portion of the river is called Kuntipuzha, and the noise of the water, said to be falling on the upset utensils, is heard at a great distance.

The Kammālans won't lower themselves to eat food from Kurups, Tōlkollans, Pulluvans, Mannāns, or Tandans. However, a Tandan also thinks it’s beneath his dignity to accept food from a Kammālan. The Kammālans see themselves as native to Malabar and take pride in their polyandry system, claiming it comes from the time of the exiled Pāndavas, along with their common wife Pānchāli and their mother Kunthi, who lived in the forest of the Walluvanād division. They say there was an attempt to destroy the Pāndavas in the Arakkuparamba amsam of this division, and that the Tac’chans (artisans) were rewarded by the Kurus with the enjoyment of the Tacchanattukara amsam. They also mention that the Pāndus stayed for a while in the village of Bhīmanād, then went to the Attapādi valley, where they left their cooking utensils at a spot where the water falls from several hundred feet. This part of the river is called Kuntipuzha, and the sound of the water hitting the overturned utensils can be heard from quite a distance.

The Kammālans, male and female, dress like Nāyars, and their ornaments are almost similar to those of the Nāyars, with this difference, that the female Tattān wears a single chittu or ring in the right ear only.

The Kammālans, both men and women, dress like Nāyars, and their jewelry is quite similar to that of the Nāyars, with one exception: the female Tattān wears a single chittu or ring in just the right ear.

In the building of a house, the services of the Asāri are required throughout. He it is who draws the plan of the building. And, when a door is fixed or beam raised, he receives his perquisite. The completion of a house is signified as a rule by a kutti-poosa. For this ceremony, the owner of the house has to supply the workmen with at least four goats to be sacrificed at the four corners thereof, a number of fowls to be killed so that the blood may be smeared on the walls and ceiling, and an ample meal with liquor. The feast concluded, the workmen receive presents of rings, gold ear-rings, silk and other cloths, of which the Moothasāri or chief carpenter receives the lion’s share. “The village [128]carpenter,” Mr. Gopal Panikkar writes,80 “has to do everything connected with our architecture, such as fixing poles or wickets at the exact spot where buildings are to be erected, and clearing newly erected buildings of all devils and demons that may be haunting them. This he does by means of pūjas (worship) performed after the completion of the building. But people have begun to break through the village traditions, and to entrust architectural work to competent hands, when the village carpenter is found incompetent for the same.”

In building a house, the services of the Asāri are needed throughout the process. He is the one who creates the building plan. When a door is installed or a beam is raised, he receives his cut. The completion of a house is usually marked by a kutti-poosa. For this ceremony, the homeowner has to provide the workers with at least four goats to sacrifice at the four corners of the house, a number of chickens to be killed so their blood can be smeared on the walls and ceiling, and a generous meal with drinks. After the feast, the workers receive gifts like rings, gold earrings, silk, and other fabrics, with the Moothasāri or chief carpenter getting the largest share. “The village [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]carpenter,” Mr. Gopal Panikkar writes,80 “is responsible for everything related to our architecture, such as placing poles or gates exactly where buildings will be constructed and clearing newly built structures of any spirits or demons that might be lingering. He does this through pūjas (worship) performed after completing the building. However, people are starting to break away from village traditions and are giving architectural work to skilled professionals when the village carpenter is found to be inadequate for the task.”

It is noted by Canter Visscher81 that “in commencing the building of a house, the first prop must be put up on the east side. The carpenters open three or four cocoanuts, spilling the juice as little as possible, and put some tips of betel leaves into them; and, from the way these float in the liquid, they foretell whether the house will be lucky or unlucky, whether it will stand for a long or short period, and whether another will ever be erected on its site. I have been told that the heathens say that the destruction of fort Paponetti by our arms was foretold by the builders from these auguries.”

Canter Visscher81 notes that “when starting to build a house, the first support must be placed on the east side. The carpenters open three or four coconuts, trying to spill as little juice as possible, and put some tips of betel leaves into them; by observing how these float in the liquid, they predict whether the house will be lucky or unlucky, whether it will last a long time or a short time, and whether another house will ever be built on the same spot. I’ve been told that the locals claim the destruction of Fort Paponetti by our forces was predicted by the builders based on these signs.”

The blacksmith is employed in the manufacture of locks and keys, and ornamental iron and brasswork for the houses of the rich. The smithy is near the dwelling hut, and the wife blows the bellows. The smith makes tyres for wheels, spades, choppers, knives, sickles, iron spoons, ploughshares, shoes for cattle and horses, etc. These he takes to the nearest market, and sells there. In some places there are clever smiths, who make excellent chellams (betel boxes) of brass, and there is one man at Walluvanād who even makes stylographic pens. [129]

The blacksmith works on making locks and keys, as well as decorative iron and brass items for wealthy homes. The forge is located close to the house, and his wife operates the bellows. The blacksmith creates tires for wheels, shovels, axes, knives, sickles, iron spoons, plowshares, and shoes for animals like cattle and horses. He then takes his products to the nearest market to sell them. In some areas, there are skilled blacksmiths who craft high-quality betel boxes out of brass, and there’s one person in Walluvanād who even makes fountain pens. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Mūsāri works in bell-metal, and makes all kinds of household utensils, and large vessels for cooking purposes. He is an adept at making such articles with the proper proportions of copper, lead and brass. In some of the houses of the wealthier classes there are cooking utensils, which cost nearly a thousand rupees. Excellent bell-metal articles are made at Cherpalcheri, and Kunhimangalam in North Malabar is celebrated for its bell-metal lamps. The importation of enamelled and aluminium vessels, and lamps made in Europe, has made such inroads into the metal industry of the district that the brazier and blacksmith find their occupation declining.

The Mūsāri crafts items in bell metal and creates all sorts of household utensils and large cooking pots. He’s skilled at making these products with the right mix of copper, lead, and brass. In some homes of wealthier families, there are cooking utensils that can cost nearly a thousand rupees. High-quality bell-metal items are produced in Cherpalcheri, and Kunhimangalam in North Malabar is well-known for its bell-metal lamps. The import of enamelled and aluminum vessels, as well as lamps made in Europe, has significantly impacted the metal industry in the district, leading to a decline in work for brazers and blacksmiths.

The goldsmith makes all kinds of gold ornaments worn by Malaiālis. His lot is better than that of the other artisan classes.

The goldsmith creates all sorts of gold jewelry worn by Malaiālis. His situation is better than that of the other artisan groups.

It is noted in the Malabar Marriage Commission’s report that “among carpenters and blacksmiths in the Calicut, Walluvanād and Ponnāni taluks, several brothers have one wife between them, although the son succeeds the father amongst them.” Polyandry of the fraternal type is said to be most prevalent among the blacksmiths, who lead the most precarious existence, and have to observe the strictest economy. As with the Nāyars, the tāli-kettu kalyānam has to be celebrated. For this the parents of the child have to find a suitable manavālan or bridegroom by the consultation of horoscopes. An auspicious day is fixed, and new cloths are presented to the manavālan. The girl bathes, and puts on new clothes. She and the manavālan are conducted to a pandal (booth), where the tāli-tying ceremony takes place. This concluded, the manavālan takes a thread from the new cloth, and breaks it in two, saying that his union with the girl has ceased. He then walks away [130]without looking back. When a Kammālan contemplates matrimony, his parents look out for a suitable bride. They are received by the girl’s parents, and enquiries are made concerning her. The visit is twice repeated, and, when an arrangement has been arrived at, the village astrologer is summoned, and the horoscopes of the contracting parties are consulted. It is sufficient if the horoscope of one of the sons agrees with that of the girl. The parents of the sons deposit as earnest money, or āchcharapanam, four, eight, twelve, or twenty-one fanams according to their means, in the presence of the artisans of the village; and a new cloth (kacha) is presented to the bride, who thus becomes the wife of all the sons. There are instances in which the girl, after the āchcharam marriage, is immediately taken to the husband’s house. All the brother-husbands, dressed in new clothes and decorated with ornaments, with a new palmyra leaf umbrella in the hand, come in procession to the bride’s house, where they are received by her parents and friends, and escorted to the marriage pandal. The bride and bridegrooms sit in a row, and the girl’s parents give them fruits and sugar. This ceremony is called mathuram kotukkal. The party then adjourns to the house of the bridegrooms where a feast is held, in the course of which a ceremony called pāl kotukkal is performed. The priest of the Kammālans takes some milk in a vessel, and pours it into the mouths of the bride and bridegrooms, who are seated, the eldest on the right, the others in order of seniority, and lastly the bride. During the nuptials the parents of the bride have to present a water-vessel, lamp, eating dish, cooking vessel, spittoon, and a vessel for drawing water from the well. The eldest brother cohabits with the bride on the wedding day, and special days are set apart for each brother. [131]There seems to be a belief among the Kammālan women that, the more husbands they have, the greater will be their happiness. If one of the brothers, on the ground of incompatibility of temper, brings a new wife, she is privileged to cohabit with the other brothers. In some cases, a girl will have brothers ranging in age from twenty-five to five, whom she has to regard as her husband, so that by the time the youngest reaches puberty she may be well over thirty, and a young man has to perform the duties of a husband with a woman who is twice his age.

It’s noted in the Malabar Marriage Commission’s report that “among carpenters and blacksmiths in the Calicut, Walluvanād, and Ponnāni areas, several brothers share one wife, even though the son takes over from the father among them.” Polyandry of the fraternal kind is most common among blacksmiths, who live the most uncertain lives and need to practice strict budgeting. Like the Nāyars, the tāli-kettu kalyānam must be celebrated. For this, the child’s parents have to find a suitable groom by checking horoscopes. An auspicious day is chosen, and new clothes are given to the groom. The girl bathes and puts on new clothes. She and the groom are taken to a pandal (booth), where the tāli-tying ceremony occurs. Once that's done, the groom takes a thread from the new cloth and breaks it in two, declaring that his union with the girl is over. He then walks away [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]without looking back. When a Kammālan thinks about getting married, his parents search for a suitable bride. They are welcomed by the girl’s parents, and inquiries are made about her. The visit happens twice, and once an agreement is reached, the village astrologer is called, and the horoscopes of both parties are checked. It’s enough if one of the sons' horoscopes matches that of the girl. The parents of the sons deposit earnest money, or āchcharapanam, of four, eight, twelve, or twenty-one fanams based on what they can afford, in front of the village artisans; and a new cloth (kacha) is given to the bride, making her the wife of all the sons. There are cases where the girl is taken to her husband’s house immediately after the āchcharam marriage. All the brother-husbands, dressed in new clothes and adorned with ornaments, holding a new palmyra leaf umbrella, walk in procession to the bride’s house, where her parents and friends greet them and escort them to the marriage pandal. The bride and groom sit in a row, and the girl’s parents give them fruits and sweets. This ceremony is called mathuram kotukkal. The group then moves to the house of the grooms for a feast, during which a ceremony called pāl kotukkal is performed. The Kammālan priest takes some milk in a vessel and pours it into the mouths of the bride and grooms, seated in order of seniority, the eldest on the right, and lastly the bride. During the wedding, the bride's parents must give a water vessel, lamp, dish, cooking pot, spittoon, and a vessel to draw water from the well. The eldest brother has marital relations with the bride on the wedding day, and specific days are designated for each brother. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]There seems to be a belief among Kammālan women that the more husbands they have, the happier they will be. If one of the brothers, due to personality clashes, takes another wife, she has the right to be with the other brothers. In some situations, a girl might have brothers between the ages of twenty-five and five, who she has to see as her husbands, so that by the time the youngest reaches puberty, she may already be over thirty, and a young man has to fulfill the responsibilities of a husband with a woman who is twice his age.

If a woman becomes pregnant before the āchchara kalyānam has been performed, her parents are obliged to satisfy the community that her condition was caused by a man of their own caste, and he has to marry the girl. If the paternity cannot be traced, a council is held, and the woman is turned out of the caste. In the sixth or eighth month of pregnancy, the woman is taken to her mother’s house, where the first confinement takes place. During her stay there the pulikudi ceremony is performed. The husbands come, and present their wife with a new cloth. A branch of a tamarind tree is planted in the yard of the house, and, in the presence of the relations, the brother of the pregnant woman gives her conji (rice gruel) mixed with the juices of the tamarind, Spondias mangifera and Hibiscus, to drink. The customary feast then takes place. A barber woman (Mannathi) acts as midwife. On the fourteenth day after childbirth, the Thali-kurup sprinkles water over the woman, and the Mannathi gives her a newly-washed cloth to wear. Purification concludes with a bath on the fifteenth day. On the twenty-eighth day the child-naming ceremony takes place. The infant is placed in its father’s lap, and in front of it are set a [132]measure of rice and paddy (unhusked rice) on a plantain leaf. A brass lamp is raised, and a cocoanut broken. The worship of Ganēsa takes place, and the child is named after its grandfather or grandmother. In the sixth month the chōronu or rice-giving ceremony takes place. In the first year of the life of a boy the ears are pierced, and gold ear-rings inserted. In the case of a girl, the ear-boring ceremony takes place in the sixth or seventh year. The right nostril of girls is also bored, and mukkuthi worn therein.

If a woman gets pregnant before the āchchara kalyānam has happened, her parents must prove to the community that she was made pregnant by a man from their own caste, and he must marry her. If they can't identify the father, a council is held, and the woman is expelled from the caste. During the sixth or eighth month of pregnancy, she is taken to her mother's house for her first confinement. While she’s there, the pulikudi ceremony is performed. The husbands come and give their wives a new cloth. A tamarind tree branch is planted in the yard, and, in front of the relatives, the brother of the pregnant woman gives her conji (rice gruel) mixed with the juices of tamarind, Spondias mangifera, and Hibiscus to drink. A customary feast follows. A barber woman (Mannathi) is the midwife. On the fourteenth day after childbirth, the Thali-kurup sprinkles water on the woman, and the Mannathi gives her a freshly washed cloth to wear. Purification ends with a bath on the fifteenth day. On the twenty-eighth day, the child-naming ceremony occurs. The baby is placed in its father's lap, with a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]measure of rice and unhusked rice on a plantain leaf in front of it. A brass lamp is lifted, and a coconut is broken. Worship is done for Ganēsa, and the child is named after a grandparent. In the sixth month, the chōronu or rice-giving ceremony happens. In the first year of a boy's life, his ears are pierced, and gold earrings are put in. For a girl, the ear-boring ceremony takes place in her sixth or seventh year. The right nostril of girls is also pierced, and a mukkuthi is worn there.

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, that, “amongst Kammālans, the betrothal ceremony is similar to that of the Tiyans. If more than one brother is to be married, to the same girl, her mother asks how many bridegrooms there are, and replies that there are mats and planks for so many. Cohabitation sometimes begins from the night of the betrothal, the eldest brother having the priority, and the rest in order of seniority on introduction by the bride’s brother. If the girl becomes pregnant, the formal marriage must be celebrated before the pregnancy has advanced six months. At the formal marriage, the bridegrooms are received by the bride’s mother and brothers; two planks are placed before a lighted lamp, before which the bridegrooms and the bride’s brothers prostrate themselves. The bride is dressed in a new cloth, and brought down by the bridegroom’s sister and fed with sweetmeats.

It is noted in the Gazetteer of Malabar that, “among the Kammālans, the betrothal ceremony is similar to that of the Tiyans. If more than one brother is set to marry the same girl, her mother asks how many bridegrooms there are and responds that there are mats and planks for that many. Cohabitation sometimes starts on the night of the betrothal, with the eldest brother having priority, and the others following in order of seniority as introduced by the bride’s brother. If the girl becomes pregnant, the formal marriage must take place before the pregnancy reaches six months. During the formal marriage, the bridegrooms are welcomed by the bride’s mother and brothers; two planks are placed in front of a lit lamp, before which the bridegrooms and the bride’s brothers bow down. The bride is dressed in new clothing, brought down by the bridegroom’s sister, and fed sweet treats.

“Next day all the bridegroom’s party visit the Tandān of the bride’s desam (village), who has to give them arrack (liquor) and meat, receiving in his turn a present of two fanams (money). The next day the bride is again feasted in her house by the bridegrooms, and is given her dowry consisting of four metal plates, one [133]spittoon, one kindi (metal vessel), and a bell-metal lamp. The whole party then goes to the bridegroom’s house, where the Tandān proclaims the titles of the parties and their desam. All the brothers who are to share in the marriage sit in a row on a mat with the bride on the extreme left, and all drink cocoanut milk. The presence of all the bridegrooms is essential at this final ceremony, though for the preceding formalities it is sufficient if the eldest is present.”

“Next day, all the groom's party visits the Tandān of the bride’s village, who provides them with arrack (liquor) and meat, and receives a gift of two fanams (money) in return. The following day, the bride is treated to a feast at her home by the grooms and is given her dowry, which includes four metal plates, one spittoon, one kindi (metal vessel), and a bell-metal lamp. Then, everyone goes to the groom’s house, where the Tandān announces the names of the parties and their village. All the brothers who will share in the marriage sit in a row on a mat, with the bride on the far left, and everyone drinks coconut milk. It’s essential for all the grooms to be present at this final ceremony, although for the earlier formalities, having the eldest present is enough.”

The Kammalāns burn the corpses of adults, and bury the young. Fifteen days’ pollution is observed, and at the expiration thereof the Thali-kurup pours water, and purification takes place. On the third day the bones of the cremated corpse are collected, and placed in a new earthen pot, which is buried in the grounds of the house of the deceased. One of the sons performs beli (makes offerings), and observes dīksha (hair-growing) for a year. The bones are then carried to Tirunavaya in Ponnāni, Tiruvilamala in Cochin territory, Perūr in Coimbatore, or Tirunelli in the Wynād, and thrown into the river. A final beli is performed, and the srādh memorial ceremony is celebrated. If the deceased was skilled in sorcery, or his death was due thereto, his ghost is believed to haunt the house, and trouble the inmates. To appease it, the village washerman (Mannān) is brought with his drums, and, by means of his songs, forces the devil into one of the members of the household, who is made to say what murthi or evil spirit possesses him, and how it should be satisfied. It is then appeased with the sacrifice of a fowl, and drinking the juice of tender cocoanuts. A further demand is that it must have a place consigned to it in the house or grounds, and be worshipped once a year. Accordingly, seven days later, a small stool [134]representing the deceased is placed in a corner of one of the rooms, and there worshipped annually with offerings of cocoanuts, toddy, arrack, and fowls. In the grounds of some houses small shrines, erected to the memory of the dead, may be seen. These are opened once a year, and offerings made to them.

The Kammalāns burn the bodies of adults and bury the young ones. There’s a 15-day period of pollution observed, and after that, the Thali-kurup pours water for purification. On the third day, the bones of the cremated body are collected and put into a new earthen pot, which is then buried in the deceased's family grounds. One of the sons offers beli (makes offerings) and observes dīksha (growing his hair) for a year. After that, the bones are taken to Tirunavaya in Ponnāni, Tiruvilamala in Cochin, Perūr in Coimbatore, or Tirunelli in Wynād, and thrown into the river. A final beli is performed, and the srādh memorial ceremony is celebrated. If the deceased was skilled in sorcery or died because of it, it's believed that their ghost haunts the house and troubles the residents. To calm it down, the village washerman (Mannān) is called in with his drums, and through his songs, he forces the spirit into one of the household members, who then reveals which evil spirit possesses them and how it should be appeased. It's then satisfied with the sacrifice of a chicken and drinking the juice of young coconuts. Another requirement is that a space must be designated for it in the house or yard, and it should be worshipped once a year. So, seven days later, a small stool representing the deceased is placed in a corner of one of the rooms and is worshipped annually with offerings of coconuts, toddy, arrack, and chickens. In some houses, you can see small shrines built in memory of the dead. These are opened once a year, and offerings are made to them.

The Kammālans worship various minor deities, such as Thīkutti, Parakutti, Kala Bairavan, and others. Some only worship stone images erected under trees annually. They have barbers of their own, of whom the Mannān shaves the men, and the Mannathi the women. These individuals are not admitted into the Mannān caste, which follows the more honourable profession of washing clothes.

The Kammālans worship different minor deities, like Thīkutti, Parakutti, Kala Bairavan, and others. Some of them only pay homage to stone images set up under trees once a year. They have their own barbers, with the Mannān shaving the men and the Mannathi taking care of the women. These barbers are not part of the Mannān caste, which is associated with the more respected job of washing clothes.

In the Madras Census Report, 1901, the following sub-castes of Malabar Kammālans are recorded:—Kallan Muppan and Kallukkotti (stone-workers), Kottōn (brass-smith), Pon Chetti (gold merchant), and Pūliasāri (masons). In the Cochin Census Report, 1901, it is stated that “the Kammālans are divided into six sub-castes, viz., Marāsāri (carpenter), Kallasāri (mason), Mūsāri (brazier), Kollan (blacksmith), Tattān (goldsmith), and Tōlkollan (leather-worker). Of these six, the first five interdine, and intermarry. The Tōlkollan is considered a degraded caste, probably on account of his working in leather, which in its earlier stages is an unholy substance. The other sub-castes do not allow the Tōlkollans even to touch them. Among the Marāsāris are included the Marāsāris proper and Tacchans. The Tacchans are looked upon by other castes in the group as a separate caste, and are not allowed to touch them. All the sub-castes generally follow the makkathāyam law of inheritance, but there are some vestiges of marumakkathāyam also among them. [135]There is a sub-caste called Kuruppu, who are their barbers and priests. They officiate as priest at marriage and funeral ceremonies. When they enter the interior shrine of temples for work in connection with the image of a god, or with the temple flagstaff, the Asāri and Mūsāri temporarily wear a sacred thread, which is a rare privilege. Their approach within a radius of twenty-four feet pollutes Brāhmans. On the completion of a building, the Marāsāri, Kallāsāri and Kollan perform certain pūjas, and sacrifice a fowl or sheep to drive out the demons and devils which are supposed to have haunted the house till then.”

In the Madras Census Report of 1901, the following sub-castes of Malabar Kammālans are noted: Kallan Muppan and Kallukkotti (stone workers), Kottōn (brass smith), Pon Chetti (gold merchant), and Pūliasāri (masons). In the Cochin Census Report of 1901, it mentions that “the Kammālans are divided into six sub-castes: Marāsāri (carpenter), Kallasāri (mason), Mūsāri (brazier), Kollan (blacksmith), Tattān (goldsmith), and Tōlkollan (leather worker). Among these six, the first five intermarry and share meals. The Tōlkollan is seen as a lower caste, likely because of their work with leather, which is considered unclean in its raw form. The other sub-castes do not allow the Tōlkollans to touch them. The Marāsāris include both the Marāsāris proper and Tacchans. Other castes view the Tacchans as a distinct group and don’t permit them any contact. All sub-castes generally follow the makkathāyam inheritance law, though some remnants of marumakkathāyam can also be found among them. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] There's a sub-caste called Kuruppu, who serve as their barbers and priests. They perform priestly duties at weddings and funerals. When they enter the sacred parts of temples to work with the deity's image or the temple's flagstaff, the Asāri and Mūsāri temporarily wear a sacred thread, which is a rare honor. Their presence within twenty-four feet is considered polluting to Brāhmans. Upon finishing a building, the Marāsāri, Kallāsāri, and Kollan conduct certain pūjas and offer a fowl or sheep to expel any spirits or demons thought to have lingered in the house until that point.”

For the following note on the Kammālans of Travancore, I am indebted to Mr. N. Subramania Aiyar. “The titles of the Malayālam Kammālans are Panikkan and Kanakkan. The word Panikkan means a worker, and Kanakkan is the title given to a few old and respectable Kammālas in every village, who superintend the work of others, and receive the highest remuneration. It is their business to sketch the plan of a building, and preside at the vastubali rite. Many Tamil Kammālans have naturalised themselves on the west coast, and speak Malayālam. Between them and the Malayālam Kammālans neither intermarriage nor interdining obtains. The latter are divided into five classes, viz., Asāri or Marapanikkan (workers in wood), Kallan or Kallāsāri (workers in stone), Mūsāri (braziers and coppersmiths), Tattān (goldsmiths), and Kollan (workers in iron). To these the Jātinirnaya and Kēralavisēshamāhātmya add a sixth class, the Tacchan or Irchchakollan, whose occupation is to fell trees and saw timber. The Tacchans are also known as Villasans (bowmen), as they were formerly required to supply bows and arrows for the Travancore army. [136]

For the following information about the Kammālans of Travancore, I want to thank Mr. N. Subramania Aiyar. “The titles of the Malayālam Kammālans are Panikkan and Kanakkan. The term Panikkan refers to a worker, while Kanakkan is the title given to a few older and respected Kammālas in each village, who oversee the work of others and receive the highest pay. Their responsibility is to create the blueprint of a building and to lead the vastubali rite. Many Tamil Kammālans have settled on the west coast and speak Malayālam. There is no intermarriage or shared meals between them and the Malayālam Kammālans. The latter are divided into five classes: Asāri or Marapanikkan (woodworkers), Kallan or Kallāsāri (stonemasons), Mūsāri (braziers and coppersmiths), Tattān (goldsmiths), and Kollan (blacksmiths). Additionally, the Jātinirnaya and Kēralavisēshamāhātmya mention a sixth class, the Tacchan or Irchchakollan, whose job is to cut down trees and saw timber. The Tacchans are also known as Villasans (archers), as they used to provide bows and arrows for the Travancore army. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Epigraphic records point to the existence of the five classes of Kammālans in Malabar at least as early as the beginning of the ninth century A.D., as a Syrian Christian grant refers to them as Aimvazhi Kammālas. There is a tradition that they were brought to Kērala by Parasu Rāma, but left in a body for Ceylon on being pressed by one of the early Perumāl satraps of Cranganūr to marry into the washerman caste, after they had by a special arrangement of the marriage shed trapped to death a large number of that obnoxious community. The King of Ceylon was requested, as an act of international courtesy, to send back some of the Kammālans. As, however, they were loth to return to their former persecutor, they were sent in charge of some Izhavas, who formed the military caste of the island. The legend is given in detail by Canter Visscher, who writes as follows. “In the time of Cheramperoumal, a woman belonging to the caste of the washermen, whose house adjoined that of an Ajari (the carpenter caste), being occupied as usual in washing a cloth in water mixed with ashes (which is here used for soap), and having no one at hand to hold the other end of it, called to a young daughter of the Ajari, who was alone in the house, to assist her. The child, not knowing that this was an infringement of the laws of her caste, did as she was requested, and then went home. The washerwoman was emboldened by this affair to enter the Ajari’s house a few days afterwards; and, upon the latter demanding angrily how she dared to cross his threshold, the woman answered scornfully that he belonged now to the same caste as she did, since his daughter had helped to hold her cloth. The Ajari, learning the disgrace that had befallen him, killed the washerwoman. Upon this, her friends complained to Cheramperoumal, who espoused [137]their cause, and threatened the carpenters; whereupon the latter combined together to take refuge in Ceylon, where they were favourably received by the King of Candy, for whom the Malabars have great veneration. Cheramperoumal was placed in great embarrassment by their departure, having no one in his dominions who could build a house or make a spoon, and begged the King of Candy to send them back, promising to do them no injury. The Ajaris would not place entire confidence in these promises, but asked the king to send them with two Chegos (Chōgans) and their wives, to witness Cheramperoumal’s conduct towards them, and to protect them. The king granted their request, with the stipulation that on all high occasions, such as weddings and deaths and other ceremonies, the Ajaris should bestow three measures of rice on each of these Chegos and their descendants as a tribute for their protection; a custom which still exists. If the Ajari is too poor to afford the outlay, he is still obliged to present the requisite quantity of rice, which is then given back to him again; the privilege of the Chegos being thus maintained.

Epigraphic records indicate that the five classes of Kammālans existed in Malabar by the early ninth century A.D., as a Syrian Christian grant mentions them as Aimvazhi Kammālas. There's a belief that they were brought to Kērala by Parasu Rāma but later left for Ceylon after one of the early Perumāl satraps of Cranganūr pressured them to marry into the washerman caste, leading to a violent incident where several members of that community were killed. The King of Ceylon was asked, as a gesture of international courtesy, to return some of the Kammālans. However, since they were reluctant to return to their previous oppressor, they were sent under the escort of some Izhavas, the island's military caste. Canter Visscher elaborates on the legend, stating: "During the reign of Cheramperoumal, a woman from the washerman caste was washing a cloth in water mixed with ashes (used in this area as soap). Without anyone to hold the other end, she called out to a young girl from the Ajari (the carpenter caste), who was alone at home, asking for help. Unaware that this was against her caste’s rules, the girl helped her and then returned home. This incident led the washerwoman to feel bold enough to enter the Ajari’s house days later. When the Ajari angrily confronted her about crossing his threshold, the washerwoman scornfully replied that he was now of the same caste as her since his daughter had helped her with the cloth. Ashamed of the situation, the Ajari killed the washerwoman. Her friends then complained to Cheramperoumal, who took up their cause and threatened the carpenters. In response, the Ajaris banded together to flee to Ceylon, where they were welcomed by the King of Candy, whom the Malabars greatly revered. Cheramperoumal, facing difficulty due to their departure since he had no one left to build houses or make spoons, asked the King of Candy to send them back, promising no harm would come to them. The Ajaris were hesitant to fully trust these promises and asked the king to send them back accompanied by two Chegos (Chōgans) and their wives, to observe Cheramperoumal’s treatment of them and to protect them. The king agreed but stipulated that for every important occasion, like weddings and funerals, the Ajaris had to offer three measures of rice to each Chego and their descendants as a tribute for their protection; a practice that continues today. If an Ajari is unable to afford this, he is still required to provide the rice, which is then returned to him, thus maintaining the privilege of the Chegos."

“The Kammālans are to some extent educated, and a few of them have a certain knowledge of Sanskrit, in which language several works on architecture are to be found. Their houses, generally known as kottil, are only low thatched sheds. They eat fish and flesh, and drink intoxicating liquors. Their jewelry is like that of the Nāyars, from whom, however, they are distinguished by not wearing the nose ornaments mukkutti and gnattu. Some in Central Travancore wear silver mukkuttis. Tattooing, once very common, is going out of fashion.

“The Kammālans are somewhat educated, and a few of them have some knowledge of Sanskrit, which has several works on architecture. Their houses, typically called kottil, are just simple low thatched sheds. They eat fish and meat, and drink alcoholic beverages. Their jewelry is similar to that of the Nāyars, but they stand out by not wearing the nose ornaments mukkutti and gnattu. Some individuals in Central Travancore wear silver mukkuttis. Tattooing, which used to be very common, is becoming less popular.”

“In timber work the Asāris excel, but the Tamil Kammālans have outstripped the Tattāns in gold and [138]silver work. The house-building of the Asāri has a quasi-religious aspect. When a temple is built, there is a preliminary rite known as anujgna, when the temple priest transfers spiritual force from the image, after which a cow and calf are taken thrice round the temple, and the Kanakkan is invited to enter within for the purposes of work. The cow and calf are let loose in front of the carpenter, who advances, and commences the work. On the completion of a building, an offering known as vastubali is made. Vastu is believed to represent the deity who presides over the house, and the spirits inhabiting the trees which were felled for the purpose of building it. To appease these supernatural powers, the figure of a demon is drawn with powders, and the Kanakkan, after worshipping his tutelary deity Bhadrakāli, offers animal sacrifices to him in non-Brāhmanical houses, and vegetable sacrifices in Brāhman shrines and homes. An old and decrepit carpenter enters within the new building, and all the doors thereof are closed. The Kanakkan from without asks whether he has inspected everything, and is prepared to hold himself responsible for any architectural or structural shortcomings, and he replies in the affirmative. A jubilant cry is then raised by all the assembled Asāris. Few carpenters are willing to undertake this dangerous errand, as it is supposed that the dissatisfied demons are sure to make short work of the man who accepts the responsibility. The figure is next effaced, and no one enters the house until the auspicious hour of milk-boiling.

“In carpentry, the Asāris are exceptional, but the Tamil Kammālans have surpassed the Tattāns in gold and silver craftsmanship. The house-building of the Asāri has a spiritual aspect. When a temple is constructed, there's a preliminary ritual called anujgna, where the temple priest transfers spiritual energy from the image. After that, a cow and calf are walked around the temple three times, and the Kanakkan is invited to come inside to start his work. The cow and calf are released in front of the carpenter, who then approaches and begins the construction. Once a building is finished, a ritual offering known as vastubali is made. Vastu is thought to represent the god that oversees the house, along with the spirits of the trees that were cut down for the building. To appease these supernatural beings, a demon figure is drawn with powders, and the Kanakkan, after worshipping his deity Bhadrakāli, makes animal sacrifices in non-Brāhmanical homes and vegetable sacrifices in Brāhman shrines. An elderly carpenter enters the new building, and all doors are shut. The Kanakkan outside asks if he has checked everything and is ready to take responsibility for any architectural issues, to which he replies affirmatively. A joyful cheer then erupts from all the gathered Asāris. Few carpenters are willing to take on this risky task, as it’s believed that any displeased demons will quickly deal with whoever accepts the responsibility. The demon figure is then erased, and no one enters the house until the lucky time for boiling milk.”

“Vilkuruppu or Vilkollakkuruppu, who used formerly to supply bows and arrows for the Malabar army, are the recognised priests and barbers of the Kammālans. They still make and present bows and arrows at the [139]Ōnam festival. In some places the Kammālans have trained members of their own caste to perform the priestly offices. The Malayāla Kammālans, unlike the Tamils, are not a thread-wearing class, but sometimes put on a thread when they work in temples or at images. They worship Kāli, Mātan, and other divinities. Unlike the Tamil Kammālans, they are a polluting class, but, when they have their working tools with them, they are less objectionable. In some places, as in South Travancore, they are generally regarded as higher in rank than the Izhavas, though this is not universal.

“Vilkuruppu or Vilkollakkuruppu, who used to provide bows and arrows for the Malabar army, are recognized as the priests and barbers of the Kammālans. They still create and present bows and arrows at the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Ōnam festival. In some areas, the Kammālans have trained people from their own caste to carry out the priestly duties. The Malayāla Kammālans, unlike the Tamils, do not wear sacred threads regularly but may wear one when working in temples or with idols. They worship Kāli, Mātan, and other deities. Unlike the Tamil Kammālans, they are considered a polluting class, but when they carry their working tools, they are viewed as less undesirable. In some areas, such as South Travancore, they are generally seen as of higher rank than the Izhavas, although this view is not universal.”

“The tāli-kettu ceremony is cancelled by a ceremony called vāzhippu, by which all connection between the tāli-tier and the girl is extinguished. The wedding ornament is exactly the same as that of the Izhavas, and is known as the minnu (that which shines). The system of inheritance is makkathāyam. It is naturally curious that, among a makkathāyam community, paternal polyandry should have been the rule till lately. ‘The custom,’ says Mateer, ‘of one woman having several husbands is sometimes practiced by carpenters, stone-masons, and individuals of other castes. Several brothers living together are unable to support a single wife for each, and take one, who resides with them all. The children are reckoned to belong to each brother in succession in the order of seniority.’ But this, after all, admits of explanation. If only the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance is taken, as it should be, as a necessary institution in a society living in troublous times, and among a community whose male members had duties and risks which would not ordinarily permit of the family being perpetuated solely through the male line, and not indicating any paternal uncertainty as some theorists would have it; and if polyandry, which is much [140]more recent than the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance, is recognised to be the deplorable result of indigence, individual and national, and not of sexual bestiality, there is no difficulty in understanding how a makkathāyam community can be polyandrous. Further, the manners of the Kammālars lend a negative support to the origin just indicated by the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance even among the Nāyars. The work of the Kammālars was within doors and at home, not even in a large factory where power-appliances may lend an element of risk, for which reason they found it quite possible to keep up lineage in the paternal line, which the fighting Nāyars could not possibly do. And the fact that the marumakkathāyam system was ordained only for the Kshatriyas, and for the fighting races, and not for the religious and industrial classes, deserves to be specially noted in this connection.”

The tāli-kettu ceremony is canceled by another ceremony called vāzhippu, which completely ends the connection between the tāli-tier and the girl. The wedding ornament is the same as that of the Izhavas and is referred to as the minnu (the one that shines). The system of inheritance is makkathāyam. It's interesting that in a makkathāyam community, paternal polyandry has been the norm until recently. “The custom,” says Mateer, “of one woman having multiple husbands is sometimes practiced by carpenters, stone-masons, and others from different castes. Several brothers living together can't support a single wife for each of them, so they take one who lives with all of them. The children are considered to belong to each brother in turn based on their seniority.” However, this can be explained. If we consider the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance, as it should be, as an essential institution in a society facing tough times and among a community whose male members had responsibilities and risks that wouldn't usually allow the family to continue solely through the male line, it doesn't imply any paternal uncertainty as some theorists suggest; and if polyandry, which is much [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] more recent than the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance, is acknowledged as a regrettable outcome of poverty, both individual and national, rather than sexual depravity, it becomes easier to see how a makkathāyam community can practice polyandry. Moreover, the customs of the Kammālars provide indirect support for the origin indicated by the marumakkathāyam system of inheritance, even among the Nāyars. The work of the Kammālars was done indoors and at home, not in large factories where machinery might introduce risks, which is why they could maintain lineage through the paternal line, something the fighting Nāyars couldn't manage. It's also important to note that the marumakkathāyam system was established only for Kshatriyas and the warrior classes, not for the religious and industrial groups.

Kammara.—The Kammaras are the blacksmith section of the Telugu Kamsalas, whose services are in great demand by the cultivator, whose agricultural implements have to be made, and constantly repaired. It is noted, in the Bellary Gazetteer, that “until recently the manufacture of the huge shallow iron pans, in which the sugar-cane is boiled, was a considerable industry at Kāmalāpuram. The iron was brought by pack bullocks from Jambunath Konda, the dome-shaped hill at the Hospet end of the Sandūr range, and was smelted and worked by men of the Kammara caste. Of late years, the cheaper English iron has completely ousted the country product, the smelting industry is dead, and the Kammaras confine themselves to making and mending the boilers with English material. They have a temple of their own, dedicated to Kāli, in the village, where the worship is conducted by one of themselves.” The name [141]Baita Kammara, meaning outside blacksmiths, is applied to Kamsala blacksmiths, who occupy a lowly position, and work in the open air or outside a village.82

Kammara.—The Kammaras are the blacksmiths of the Telugu Kamsalas, and their services are highly sought after by farmers who need agricultural tools made and repaired frequently. According to the Bellary Gazetteer, “until recently, making the large shallow iron pans used for boiling sugar cane was a significant industry in Kāmalāpuram. The iron was transported by pack bullocks from Jambunath Konda, the dome-shaped hill at the Hospet end of the Sandūr range, and was smelted and shaped by Kammara workers. In recent years, cheaper English iron has completely replaced local products, leading to the decline of the smelting industry, and now the Kammaras focus on making and repairing boilers with English materials. They have their own temple dedicated to Kāli in the village, where worship is carried out by one of their own.” The term [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Baita Kammara, meaning outside blacksmiths, refers to Kamsala blacksmiths, who hold a low social status and work outdoors or on the outskirts of a village.82

Kammiyan.—A Tamil name for blacksmiths.

Kammiyan.—A Tamil term for blacksmiths.

Kampa (bush of thorns).—An exogamous sept of Yerukala.

Kampa (bush of thorns).—A group within the Yerukala that practices exogamy.

Kāmpo.—In the Manual of the Ganjam district, the Kāmpos are described as Oriya agriculturists. In the Madras Census Report, 1901, the name is taken as an Oriya form of Kāpu. Kāmpu is the name for Savaras, who have adopted the customs of the Hindu Kāmpos.

Kāmpo.—In the Manual of the Ganjam district, the Kāmpos are described as Oriya farmers. In the Madras Census Report of 1901, the name is recognized as an Oriya version of Kāpu. Kāmpu refers to Savaras who have taken on the customs of the Hindu Kāmpos.

Kamsala.—The Kamsalas, or, as they are sometimes called, Kamsaras, are the Telugu equivalent of the Tamil Kammālans. They are found northward as far as Berhampore in Ganjam. According to tradition, as narrated in the note on Kammālans, they emigrated to the districts in which they now live on the disruption of their caste by a certain king. The Kamsalas of Vizagapatam, where they are numerically strong, say that, during the reign of a Chōla king, their ancestors claimed equality with Brāhmans. This offended the king, and he ordered their destruction. The Kamsalas fled northward, and some escaped death by taking shelter with people of the Ozu caste. As an acknowledgment of their gratitude to their protectors, some of them have Ozu added to their house-names, e.g., Lakkozu, Kattozu, Patozu, etc.

Kamsala.—The Kamsalas, or sometimes called Kamsaras, are the Telugu equivalent of the Tamil Kammālans. They can be found as far north as Berhampore in Ganjam. According to tradition, as mentioned in the note on Kammālans, they migrated to the areas where they currently live due to a disruption in their caste caused by a certain king. The Kamsalas of Vizagapatam, where they are a significant population, say that during the reign of a Chōla king, their ancestors claimed equality with Brāhmans. This angered the king, who then ordered their destruction. The Kamsalas fled north, and some managed to escape death by seeking refuge with people of the Ozu caste. As a way to show their gratitude to their protectors, some of them have Ozu added to their family names, e.g., Lakkozu, Kattozu, Patozu, etc.

The Kamsalas have territorial sub-divisions, such as Murikinādu, Pākinādu, Drāvida, etc. Like the Kammālans, they have five occupational sections, called Kamsali (goldsmiths), Kanchāri or Mūsāri (brass-smiths), Vadrangi [142](carpenters), and Kāsi or Silpi (stone-masons). In a note on the Kamsalas of the Godāvari district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes that “they recognise two main divisions, called Desāyi (indigenous) and Turpusākas (easterns) or immigrants from Vizagapatam. They sometimes speak of their occupational sub-divisions as gōtras. Thus, Sanāthana is the iron, Sānaga, the wooden, Abhōnasa, the brass, Prathanasa, the stone, and Suparnasa, the gold gōtra.” Intermarriage takes place between members of the different sections, but the goldsmiths affect a higher social status than the blacksmiths, and do not care to interdine or intermarry with them. They have taken to calling themselves Brāhmans, have adopted Brāhmanical gōtras, and the Brāhmanical form of marriage rites. They quote a number of well-known verses of the Telugu poet Vēmana, who satirised the Brāhmans for their shortcomings, and refer to the Sanskrit Mulastambam and Silpasastram, which are treatises on architecture. They trace their descent from Visvakarma, the architect of the gods. Visvakarma is said to have had five sons, of whom the first was Kammarachārya. His wife was Sūrēlavathi, the daughter of Vasishta. The second was Vadlachāryudu. The third was Rūdra or Kamcharāchārya of the Abhavansa gōtra, whose wife was Jalāvathi, the daughter of Paulasthya Brahma. The fourth was Kāsācharyudu of the Prasnasa gōtra. His wife was Gunāvati, the daughter of Visvavasa. The fifth was Agasālāchārya or Chandra of the Suvarnasa gōtra, whose wife was Saunati, the daughter of Bhrigumahāmuni. Visvakarma had also five daughters, of whom Sarasvathi was married to Brahma, Sachi Dēvi to Indra, Mando Dari to Rāvana, and Ahalya to Gautama. Since they were married to the dēvatas, their descendants acquired the title of [143]Achārya. The use of the umbrella, sacred thread, golden staff, the insignia of Garuda, and the playing of the bhēri were also allowed to them. It is recorded by the Rev. J. Cain83 that “the so-called right-hand castes object most strongly to the Kamsalilu being carried in a palki (palanquin), and three years ago some of them threatened to get up a little riot on the occasion of a marriage in the Kamsali caste. They were deprived of this opportunity, for the palki was a borrowed one, and its owner, more anxious for the safety of his property than the dignity of the Kamsali caste, recalled the loan on the third day. A ringleader of the discontented was a Madras Pariah. The Kamsalilu were formerly forbidden to whitewash the outside of their houses, but municipal law has proved stronger in this respect than Brāhmanical prejudice.” The Kamsalas of Ganjam and Vizagapatam do not make such a vigorous claim to be Brāhmans, as do those further south. They rear poultry, partake of animal food, do not prohibit the use of alcoholic liquor, and have no gōtras. They also have sub-divisions among them, which do not wear the sacred thread, and work outside the village limits. Thus, the Karamalas are a section of blacksmiths, who do not wear the sacred thread. Similarly, the Baita Kammaras are another section of blacksmiths, who do not wear the thread, and, as their name implies, work outside the village. In Vizagapatam, almost the only castes which will consent to receive food at the hands of Kamsalas are the humble Mālas and Rellis. Even the Tsākalas and Yatas will not do so. There is a popular saying that the Kamsalas are of all castes seven visses (viss, a measure of weight) less. [144]

The Kamsalas have different regional divisions, such as Murikinādu, Pākinādu, Drāvida, and others. Similar to the Kammālans, they have five occupational groups known as Kamsali (goldsmiths), Kanchāri or Mūsāri (brass-smiths), Vadrangi [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__](carpenters), and Kāsi or Silpi (stone-masons). In a note on the Kamsalas of the Godāvari district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway mentions that “they recognize two main divisions, called Desāyi (indigenous) and Turpusākas (easterners) or immigrants from Vizagapatam. They sometimes refer to their occupational divisions as gōtras. For example, Sanāthana represents the iron gōtra, Sānaga the wooden, Abhōnasa the brass, Prathanasa the stone, and Suparnasa the gold gōtra.” Intermarriage happens between different sections, but goldsmiths often regard themselves as having a higher social status than blacksmiths and typically avoid dining or marrying with them. They prefer to call themselves Brāhmans, have adopted Brāhmanical gōtras, and follow Brāhmanical marriage rituals. They quote several well-known verses from the Telugu poet Vēmana, who critiqued Brāhmans for their faults, and reference the Sanskrit texts Mulastambam and Silpasastram, which discuss architecture. They trace their lineage back to Visvakarma, the architect of the gods. Visvakarma supposedly had five sons, the first being Kammarachārya, whose wife was Sūrēlavathi, the daughter of Vasishta. The second was Vadlachāryudu. The third was Rūdra or Kamcharāchārya of the Abhavansa gōtra, whose wife was Jalāvathi, the daughter of Paulasthya Brahma. The fourth was Kāsācharyudu of the Prasnasa gōtra, and his wife was Gunāvati, the daughter of Visvavasa. The fifth was Agasālāchārya or Chandra of the Suvarnasa gōtra, whose wife was Saunati, the daughter of Bhrigumahāmuni. Visvakarma also had five daughters: Sarasvathi married Brahma, Sachi Dēvi married Indra, Mando Dari married Rāvana, and Ahalya married Gautama. Because they were married to the dēvatas, their descendants were given the title of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Achārya. They were also permitted to use an umbrella, wear a sacred thread, carry a golden staff, display the insignia of Garuda, and play the bhēri. Rev. J. Cain83 recorded that “the so-called right-hand castes are strongly opposed to the Kamsalilu being carried in a palki (palanquin), and three years ago some threatened to cause a disturbance at a Kamsali marriage. This opportunity was taken away, as the palki was borrowed, and its owner, more concerned for his property than the dignity of the Kamsali caste, demanded it back on the third day. One of the ringleaders of the malcontents was a Madras Pariah. The Kamsalilu were previously not allowed to whitewash their houses' exteriors, but municipal law has proven stronger than Brāhmanical prejudice.” The Kamsalas of Ganjam and Vizagapatam do not assert their identity as Brāhmans as strongly as those further south. They raise poultry, eat meat, do not prohibit alcohol, and do not have gōtras. They also have subdivisions that do not wear the sacred thread and work outside the village boundaries. For instance, the Karamalas are a group of blacksmiths who don’t wear the sacred thread. Similarly, the Baita Kammaras are another group of blacksmiths who also do not wear it and work outside the village, as their name suggests. In Vizagapatam, the only castes willing to accept food from Kamsalas are the humble Mālas and Rellis. Even the Tsākalas and Yatas refuse to do so. There’s a common saying that the Kamsalas are “seven visses (a measure of weight) less than all castes.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In 1885, a criminal revision case came before the High Court of Madras, in which a goldsmith performed abishēkam by pouring cocoanut-water over a lingam. In his judgment, one of the Judges recorded that “the facts found are that 1st accused, a goldsmith by caste, on the night of the last Mahāsivarātri, entered a Siva temple at Vizagapatam, and performed abishēkam, i.e., poured cocoanut-water over the lingam, the 2nd and 3rd accused (Brāhmans) reciting mantrams (sacred formulæ) while he did so. Another Brāhman who was there expostulated with 1st accused, telling him that he, a goldsmith, had no right to perform abishēkam himself, upon which 1st accused said that it was he who made the idol, and he was fit to perform abishēkam. An outcry being raised, some other Brāhmans came up, and objected to 1st accused performing abishēkam, and he was turned out, and some ten rupees spent in ceremonies for the purification of the idol. The 2nd-class Magistrate convicted the 1st accused under sections 295 and 296, Indian Penal Code, and the 2nd and 3rd accused of abetment. All these convictions were reversed on appeal by the District Magistrate. There was certainly no evidence that any of the accused voluntarily caused disturbance to an assembly engaged in the performance of religious worship or religious ceremonies, and therefore a conviction under section 296 could not be supported. In order to support a conviction under section 295, it would be necessary for the prosecution to prove (1) that the accused ‘defiled’ the lingam, and (2) that he did so, knowing that a class of persons, viz., the Brāhmans, would consider such defilement as an insult to their religion. It may be noted that the 1st accused is a person of the same religion as the Brāhmans, and, therefore, if the act be an insult at all, it was an insult to [145]his own religion. The act of defilement alleged was the performance of abishēkam, or the pouring of cocoanut-water over the lingam. In itself, the act is regarded as an act of worship and meritorious, and I understand that the defilement is alleged to consist in the fact that the 1st accused was not a proper person—not being a Brāhman—to perform such a ceremony, but that he ought to have got some Brāhman to perform it for him.” The other Judge (Sir T. Muttusami Aiyar) recorded that “in many temples in this Presidency, it is not usual for worshippers generally to touch the idol or pour cocoanut-water upon it, except through persons who are specially appointed to do so, and enjoined to observe special rules of cleanliness. If the accused knew that the temple, in the case before us, is one of those temples, and if he did the act imputed to him to ridicule openly the established rule in regard to the purity of the lingam as an object of worship, it might then be reasonably inferred that he did the act wantonly, and with the intention of insulting the religious notions of the general body of worshippers. The Sub-Magistrate refers to no specific evidence in regard to the accused’s knowledge of the usage. I may also observe that, in certain temples attended by the lower classes, the slaughtering of sheep is an act of worship. But, if the same act is done in other temples to which other classes resort as places of public worship, it is generally regarded as a gross outrage or defilement.” The High Court upheld the decision of the District Magistrate.

In 1885, a criminal revision case came before the High Court of Madras, where a goldsmith performed abishēkam by pouring coconut water over a lingam. In his judgment, one of the judges stated, “The facts found are that the first accused, a goldsmith by caste, on the night of the last Mahāsivarātri, entered a Siva temple in Vizagapatam and performed abishēkam, i.e., poured coconut water over the lingam, while the second and third accused (Brāhmans) recited mantras (sacred formulas) during the act. Another Brāhman present confronted the first accused, telling him that as a goldsmith, he had no right to perform abishēkam himself. The first accused replied that he was the one who made the idol and was therefore qualified to perform abishēkam. When an uproar ensued, some other Brāhmans approached and objected to the first accused performing abishēkam, leading to his removal and the spending of about ten rupees for ceremonies to purify the idol. The second-class Magistrate convicted the first accused under sections 295 and 296 of the Indian Penal Code, and the second and third accused for abetment. However, all these convictions were overturned on appeal by the District Magistrate. There was certainly no evidence that any of the accused voluntarily disrupted a gathering engaged in the performance of religious worship or ceremonies, and thus a conviction under section 296 could not be sustained. To support a conviction under section 295, the prosecution would need to prove (1) that the accused ‘defiled’ the lingam and (2) that he knew a certain group of people, namely the Brāhmans, would view such defilement as an insult to their religion. It should be noted that the first accused shares the same religion as the Brāhmans, so if the act was indeed an insult, it was an insult to his own religion. The alleged act of defilement was performing abishēkam, or pouring coconut water over the lingam. This act is generally considered worshipful and meritorious, and I understand that the defilement is claimed to stem from the fact that the first accused was not deemed a proper person—not being a Brāhman—to perform such a ceremony, implying he should have had a Brāhman perform it for him.” The other judge (Sir T. Muttusami Aiyar) noted, “In many temples in this Presidency, it is not common for worshippers to touch the idol or pour coconut water on it, except through persons who are specifically appointed to do so and who must follow special rules of cleanliness. If the accused was aware that the temple in this case is among those temples, and if he performed the act attributed to him to openly mock the established rule concerning the purity of the lingam as an object of worship, it might reasonably be inferred that he acted maliciously, intending to insult the religious beliefs of the general body of worshippers. The Sub-Magistrate does not reference any specific evidence regarding the accused’s understanding of this custom. It should also be noted that in some temples attended by lower classes, slaughtering sheep is viewed as an act of worship. However, if the same act occurs in other temples frequented by different classes as places of public worship, it is usually considered a severe outrage or defilement.” The High Court upheld the District Magistrate's decision.

Each occupational sub-division of the Kamsalas has a headman styled Kulampedda, and occasionally the five headmen assemble for the settlement of some important question of general interest to the community. [146]

Each group within the Kamsalas has a leader called the Kulampedda, and sometimes all five leaders meet to discuss important issues that affect the whole community. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

A Kamsala may, according to the custom called mēnarikam, claim his maternal uncle’s daughter in marriage. The following account of the wedding rites is given in the Nellore Manual. “The relations of the bridegroom first go to the bride’s parents or guardians, and ask their consent to the proposed union. If consent is given, a day is fixed, on which relations of the bridegroom go to the bride’s house, where all her relations are present with cocoanuts, a cloth for the bride, betel, turmeric, etc. On the same occasion, the amount of the dower is settled. The bride bathes, and is adorned with flowers, turmeric, etc., and puts on the new cloth brought for her, and she receives the articles which the bridegroom’s party have brought. On the auspicious day appointed for the marriage, the relations of the bride go to the bridegroom’s house, and fetch him in a palanquin. A Brāhman is sent for, who performs the ceremonies near the dais on which the bride and bridegroom are seated. After the recital of the mantras (hymns) before the young couple, he sends for their uncles, and blesses them. The bridegroom then ties a pilgrim’s cloth upon him, places a brass water-pot on his head, holds a torn umbrella in his hands, and starts out from the pandal (booth), and says he is going on a pilgrimage to Benares, when the bride’s brother runs after him, and promises that he will give his sister in marriage, swearing thrice to this effect. The bridegroom, satisfied with this promise, abandons his pretended journey, takes off his pilgrim cloths, and gives them, with the umbrella, to the Brāhman. The couple seat themselves on the dais, and the Brāhman, having repeated some mantras, gives a sacred thread to the bridegroom to place over his shoulders. He then blesses the mangalasutram (marriage badge corresponding to [147]the Tamil tāli), and hands it to the bridegroom, who ties it round the bride’s neck, his sister or other elderly matron seeing that it is properly tied. The bride’s father comes forward, and, placing his daughter’s right hand in the bridegroom’s right, pours water on them. The other ceremonies are exactly similar to those practiced by the Brāhmans.” Girls are invariably married before puberty. Widows are not allowed to remarry, and divorce is not recognised.

A Kamsala can, based on the custom called mēnarikam, ask for his maternal uncle’s daughter to marry him. The following description of the wedding rituals is taken from the Nellore Manual. “The groom’s family first approaches the bride’s parents or guardians to ask for their approval of the upcoming marriage. If they agree, a date is set for the bridegroom’s family to visit the bride’s house, where all her relatives gather with coconuts, a cloth for the bride, betel leaves, turmeric, and other items. On this occasion, the dower amount is also discussed. The bride takes a bath, decorates herself with flowers and turmeric, and puts on the new cloth brought for her, receiving the gifts from the groom’s family. On the chosen auspicious day for the wedding, the bride’s relatives go to collect the groom from his house in a palanquin. A Brahmin is called to perform the rituals near the platform where the bride and groom will sit. After reciting mantras (hymns) for the couple, he calls for their uncles to bless them. The groom then ties a pilgrim’s cloth around himself, balances a brass water pot on his head, and holds a tattered umbrella while declaring he is going on a pilgrimage to Benares. At this point, the bride’s brother runs after him, promising to give his sister in marriage, swearing this three times. The groom, satisfied with this promise, drops the act of leaving, removes his pilgrimage attire, and hands it, along with the umbrella, to the Brahmin. The couple sits on the platform, and after the Brahmin recites some mantras, he gives a sacred thread to the groom to place over his shoulders. He then blesses the mangalasūtram (marriage badge corresponding to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the Tamil tāli) and hands it to the groom, who ties it around the bride’s neck, with the help of his sister or another elderly woman ensuring it's done properly. The bride’s father steps forward, placing his daughter’s right hand in the groom’s right hand, and pours water over them. The other rituals are very similar to those followed by Brahmins.” Girls are always married before puberty. Widows are not allowed to remarry, and divorce is not recognized.

The Kamsalas are either Mādhvas, Saivites, or Lingāyats. All revere the caste goddess Kāmākshi Amma, who is represented by each sub-division in a special manner. Thus the Kanchāra represents her by the stone on which he beats his metal work, the goldsmith by one of his implements, and the blacksmith by his bellows. On the eighteenth day of the Dasara festival, an annual festival is celebrated in honour of the goddess.

The Kamsalas are either Mādhvas, Saivites, or Lingāyats. All of them honor the goddess Kāmākshi Amma, who is represented by each sub-group in a unique way. For example, the Kanchāra symbolizes her with the stone he uses for his metal work, the goldsmith with one of his tools, and the blacksmith with his bellows. On the eighteenth day of the Dasara festival, an annual celebration takes place to honor the goddess.

The dead are buried in a seated posture, but, in recent years, some Kamsalas have taken to cremation. The death rites closely follow the Brāhmanical form. Death pollution is observed for twelve days.

The dead are buried sitting up, but lately, some Kamsalas have started cremating. The funeral rituals closely follow the Brāhmanical style. A period of death pollution is observed for twelve days.

In the Vizagapatam district, some artisans are engaged in the ivory-carving industry. They “manufacture for European clients fancy articles, such as chess-boards, photograph frames, card-cases, trinket boxes, and so on, from tortoise-shell, horn, porcupine quills, and ivory. The industry is in a flourishing state, and has won many medals at exhibitions. It is stated to have been introduced by Mr. Fane, who was Collector of the district from 1859 to 1862, and to have then been developed by the Kamsalis, and men of other castes who eventually took it up. The foundation of the fancy articles is usually sandal-wood, which is imported from [148]Bombay. Over this are laid porcupine quills split in half and placed side by side, or thin slices of ‘bison,’ buffalo, or stag horn, tortoise-shell, or ivory. The ivory is sometimes laid over the horn or shell, and is always either cut into geometrical patterns with a small key-hole saw, or etched with designs representing gods and flowers. The etching is done with a small V tool, and then black wax is melted into the design with a tool like a soldering iron, any excess being scraped off with a chisel, and the result is polished with a leaf of Ficus asperrima (the leaves of which are very rough, and used as a substitute for sand-paper). This gives a black design (sgraffito) on a white ground. The horn and porcupine quills are obtained from the Agency, and the tortoise-shell and ivory mainly from Bombay through the local Marvaris. The designs employed both in the etching and fret-work are stiff, and suited rather to work in metal than in ivory; and the chief merit of this Vizagapatam work perhaps lies in its careful finish—a rare quality in Indian objects of art. The ivory is rarely carved now, but, in the Calcutta Museum and elsewhere, may be seen samples of the older Vizagapatam work, which often contained ivory panels covered with scenes from holy writ, executed in considerable relief.”84

In the Vizagapatam district, some artisans are involved in the ivory-carving industry. They create decorative items for European clients, such as chess boards, photo frames, card cases, trinket boxes, and more, using materials like tortoise shell, horn, porcupine quills, and ivory. The industry is thriving and has won many awards at exhibitions. It's said to have been introduced by Mr. Fane, who was the Collector of the district from 1859 to 1862, and later developed by the Kamsalis and other castes who eventually took it up. The base of these decorative items is typically sandalwood, which is imported from [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Bombay. On top of this, split porcupine quills are laid side by side, or thin slices of bison, buffalo, stag horn, tortoise shell, or ivory. The ivory is sometimes placed over the horn or shell and is always either cut into geometric patterns with a small keyhole saw or etched with designs of gods and flowers. The etching is done with a small V tool, and then black wax is melted into the design using a tool similar to a soldering iron, with any excess scraped off with a chisel, and the final product is polished with a leaf of Ficus asperrima (which has very rough leaves and is used as a substitute for sandpaper). This process creates a black design (sgraffito) on a white background. The horn and porcupine quills are sourced from the Agency, while the tortoise shell and ivory mainly come from Bombay through local Marvaris. The designs used in both the etching and fretwork tend to be rigid and more suited to metalwork than ivory; the primary strength of this Vizagapatam work may lie in its meticulous finish—a rare quality in Indian art objects. Ivory is rarely carved today, but examples of the older Vizagapatam work can still be seen in the Calcutta Museum and elsewhere, often featuring ivory panels adorned with scenes from sacred texts, crafted in high relief. 84

The caste title of the Kamsalas is usually Ayya, but, in recent times, a good many have taken the title Achāri.

The caste title of the Kamsalas is typically Ayya, but lately, many have adopted the title Achāri.

The two begging castes Panasa and Runja are stated by Mr. Hemingway to be exclusively devoted to the Kamsalas. “The former,” he writes, “are said to be out-castes from the Kōmati sub-division of that name. Formerly in the service of the Nizam, it is said they [149]were disgraced by him, and driven to accept food of a degrading nature from a Kamsala. The Kamsalas accordingly took them under their protection. The Runjas are said to have been specially created by Siva. Siva had killed a giant named Ravundasura, and the giant’s dying request was that his limbs might be turned into musical instruments, and a special caste created to play them at the celebration of Siva’s marriage. The Runjas were the caste created. The god ordered Viswakarma, the ancestor of the Kamsalas, to support them, and the Kamsalas say that they have inherited the obligation.”

The two begging groups, Panasa and Runja, are described by Mr. Hemingway as being solely dedicated to the Kamsalas. “The former,” he writes, “are known to be outcasts from the Kōmati subgroup of that name. They were previously in the service of the Nizam but were disgraced by him and forced to accept degrading food from a Kamsala. As a result, the Kamsalas took them under their protection. The Runjas are believed to have been specifically created by Siva. Siva killed a giant named Ravundasura, and the giant’s last request was for his limbs to be turned into musical instruments, along with the creation of a special caste to play them during Siva’s wedding celebration. The Runjas were the caste created for this purpose. The god instructed Viswakarma, the ancestor of the Kamsalas, to support them, and the Kamsalas claim that they have inherited this obligation.”

It is recorded, in the Kurnool Manual, that “the story goes that in Golkonda a tribe of Kōmatis named Bacheluvaru were imprisoned for non-payment of arrears of revenue. Finding certain men of the artificer caste, who passed by in the street, spit chewed betel-nut, they got it into their mouths, and begged the artificers to get them released. The artificers pitied them, paid the arrears, and procured their release. It was then that the Kamsalis fixed a vartana or annual house fee for the maintenance of the Panasa class, on condition that they should not beg alms from the other castes.”

It is recorded in the Kurnool Manual that “the story goes that in Golkonda a tribe of Kōmatis called Bacheluvaru was imprisoned for not paying their tax debts. Spotting some craftsmen walking by who were spit out chewed betel nut, they took it into their mouths and begged the craftsmen to help get them released. The craftsmen felt sorry for them, paid the debts, and secured their release. It was then that the Kamsalis established a vartana or annual house fee for the support of the Panasa class, with the condition that they would not ask for alms from the other castes.”

Kamukham (areca-nut: Areca Catechu).—A tree or kothu of Kondaiyamkōttai Maravan.

Kamukham (areca nut: Areca Catechu).—A tree or kothu from Kondaiyamkōttai Maravan.

Kamunchia.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a very small class of Oriya cultivators.

Kamunchia.—Listed in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a very small group of Oriya farmers.

Kānagu (Pongamia glabra).—An exogamous sept of Koravas and Thūmati Gollas. The latter may not use the oil obtained from the seeds of this tree. The equivalent Kānagala occurs as an exogamous sept of Kāpu.

Kānagu (Pongamia glabra).—An exogamous group of Koravas and Thūmati Gollas. The Gollas are not allowed to use the oil extracted from the seeds of this tree. The equivalent Kānagala is found as an exogamous group of Kāpu.

Kanaka.—An exogamous sept of Badagas of the Nīlgiris. [150]

Kanaka.—A group that marries outside their clan among the Badagas of the Nīlgiris. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kanakkan.—Kanakkan is a Tamil accountant caste, corresponding to the Oriya Korono. In an account thereof, in the North Arcot Manual, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes that they are “found chiefly in the districts of North Arcot, South Arcot, and Chingleput. The name is derived from the Tamil word kanakku, which means an account. They were employed as village accountants by the ancient kings. In the inscriptions the word Karanam or Kanakkan occurs very often, and their title is invariably given as Vēlān, which is possibly a contracted form of Vellālan. These accountants of the Tamil districts seem to be quite distinct from those of Ganjam and other Telugu provinces (see Korono), some of whom claim to be Kshatriyas, or even Brāhmans. It is true that the Karnams themselves claim to be the sons of Brahma, but others maintain that they are the offspring of a Sūdra woman by a Vaisya. The caste is said to have four divisions, Sīr (Srī), Sarattu, Kaikatti, and Sōlia. The Sīr Karnams are considered of highest rank, and are generally the most intelligent accountants, though they are sadly deficient when compared with the Brāhmans who perform the duty of keeping the village accounts above the ghāts. The Kai-katti Karnams (or Karnams who show the hand) derive their name from a peculiar custom existing among them, by which a daughter-in-law is never allowed to speak to her mother-in-law except by signs. The reason may perhaps be surmised. The members of the four divisions cannot intermarry. In their customs the caste is somewhat peculiar. They wear the thread, disallow liquor-drinking, flesh-eating, and widow remarriage. Most of them worship Siva, but there are some who are Vaishnavites, and a very few are Lingāyats.” Their title is Pillai. In the records relating to the Tamil country, [151]Conicopoly, Conicoply, Canacappel, and other variants appear as a corrupt form of Kanakka Pillai. For example, in the records of Fort St. George, 1680, it is noted that “the Governour, accompanyed with the Councell and several persons of the factory, attended by six files of soldyers, the Company’s Peons, 300 of the Washers, the Pedda Naigue, the Cancoply of the Towne and of the grounds, went the circuit of Madras ground, which was described by the Cancoply of the grounds.” It is recorded by Baldæus (1672) that Xaverius set everywhere teachers called Canacappels.85 The title Conicopillay is still applied to the examiner of accounts by the Corporation of Madras.

Kanakkan.—Kanakkan is a Tamil accountant caste, similar to the Oriya Korono. In an account of this, in the North Arcot Manual, Mr. H. A. Stuart states that they are “mostly found in the districts of North Arcot, South Arcot, and Chingleput. The name comes from the Tamil word kanakku, which means account. They were hired as village accountants by ancient kings. The terms Karanam or Kanakkan appear frequently in inscriptions, and their title is always given as Vēlān, which might be a shortened form of Vellālan. These accountants from the Tamil regions seem to be quite distinct from those in Ganjam and other Telugu states (see Korono), some of whom claim to be Kshatriyas or even Brāhmans. While the Karnams themselves assert they are the sons of Brahma, others insist they are the children of a Sūdra woman and a Vaisya. The caste is said to have four divisions: Sīr (Srī), Sarattu, Kaikatti, and Sōlia. The Sīr Karnams are regarded as the highest rank and are generally the smartest accountants, although they unfortunately fall short when compared to the Brāhmans who handle the village accounts above the ghāts. The Kai-katti Karnams (or Karnams who show the hand) get their name from a unique tradition among them where a daughter-in-law is never allowed to speak to her mother-in-law except through gestures. The reason for this may be guessed. The members of the four divisions can't intermarry. Their customs are somewhat unusual. They wear the sacred thread and forbid drinking alcohol, eating meat, and widow remarriage. Most worship Siva, but some are Vaishnavites, and a very few are Lingāyats. Their title is Pillai. In historical documents related to the Tamil region, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Conicopoly, Conicoply, Canacappel, and other variations appear as corrupted forms of Kanakka Pillai. For instance, in the records of Fort St. George from 1680, it is noted that “The Governor, along with the Council and several people from the factory, accompanied by six lines of soldiers, the Company’s Peons, 300 Washers, the Pedda Naigue, and the Cancoply of the Town and the grounds, took a tour of the Madras area, as described by the Cancoply of the grounds.” Baldæus recorded in 1672 that Xaverius established teachers everywhere known as Canacappels.85 The title Conicopillay is still used for the examiner of accounts by the Corporation of Madras.

It is laid down in the Village Officers’ Manual that “the Karnam, who is entrusted with the keeping of village accounts, is subordinate to the Head of the village. He should help and advise the Head of the village in every way. He is the clerk of the Head of the village in his capacity of village munsif and magistrate. He has to prepare reports, accounts, statements, etc., which it is necessary to put in writing.” When sudden or unnatural death takes place within the limits of a village, the Karnam takes down in writing the evidence of persons who are examined, and frames a report of the whole proceedings. He keeps the register of those who are confined, or placed in the stocks by the Head of the village for offences of a trivial nature, such as using abusive language, or petty assaults or affrays. It is the Karnam who keeps the revenue accounts, and registers of the price of all kinds of grain, strangers passing or re-passing through the village, births and deaths, and cattle mortality when cattle disease, e.g., anthrax or [152]rinderpest, exists. Further, it is the duty of the Karnam to take proper care of Government survey instruments, and, when revenue survey is being carried out, to satisfy himself that the village and field boundary marks are properly erected.

It is stated in the Village Officers’ Manual that “the Karnam, who is responsible for maintaining village accounts, reports to the Head of the village. He should assist and advise the Head of the village in every way possible. He serves as the clerk to the Head of the village in his role as village munsif and magistrate. He is expected to prepare reports, accounts, statements, and other documents that need to be recorded.” When a sudden or unnatural death occurs in the village, the Karnam records the statements of those who are interviewed and compiles a report of the entire situation. He maintains the register of those who are detained or placed in stocks by the Head of the village for minor offenses, such as using offensive language or engaging in petty fights. The Karnam also manages the revenue accounts and keeps track of grain prices, visitors entering or leaving the village, births and deaths, and livestock deaths due to diseases like anthrax or rinderpest. Additionally, it is the Karnam's responsibility to take care of government survey equipment and, during a revenue survey, ensure that the village and field boundary markers are properly set up.

In their marriage and death ceremonies, the Kanakkans closely follow the Tamil Purānic type as observed by Vellālas. The Kaikatti section, however, has one peculiar custom. After the marriage ceremony, the girl is kept inside the house, and not allowed to move about freely, for at least two or three days. She is considered to be under some kind of pollution. It is said that, in former times, she was confined in the house for forty days, and, as occupation, had to separate dhal (peas) and rice, which had been mixed together.

In their wedding and funeral ceremonies, the Kanakkans closely follow the Tamil Purānic style as practiced by the Vellālas. However, the Kaikatti section has one unique custom. After the wedding ceremony, the bride is kept inside the house and isn't allowed to move around freely for at least two or three days. She is viewed as being in a state of pollution. It is said that in the past, she would be confined to the house for forty days and would have to separate dhal (peas) from rice, which had been mixed together, as her task.

The following proverbs are not complimentary to the Kanakkan, who, as an influential village official, is not always a popular individual:—

The following proverbs aren't flattering to the Kanakkan, who, as an important village official, isn't always a well-liked person:—

Though babies are sold for a pie each, we do not want a Kanakka baby.

Though babies are sold for a pie each, we do not want a Kanakka baby.

Wherever you meet with a Kanakka child or with a crow’s young one, put out its eyes.

Wherever you encounter a Kanakka child or a crow's chick, blind it.

In Travancore, Kanakkan is a name by which Kammālans are addressed, and a prefix to the name of Todupūzha Vellālas. It further occurs, on the west coast, as a sub-division of Cheruman or Pulayan.

In Travancore, Kanakkan is a name that Kammālans go by, and it's also a prefix for the name of Todupūzha Vellālas. Additionally, on the west coast, it appears as a subgroup of Cheruman or Pulayan.

For the following note on the Kanakkans of the Cochin State, I am indebted to Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Aiyar.86

For the following note on the Kanakkans of the Cochin State, I owe thanks to Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Aiyar.86

The Kanakkans belong to the slave castes, and are even now attached to some landlords. In the tāluks of Trichūr, Mukandapuram, and Cranganūr, where I [153]obtained all my information about them, I learnt that they are the Atiyars (slaves) of Chittūr Manakkal Nambūdiripad at Perumanom near Trichūr, and they owe him a kind of allegiance. The Nambūdiri landlord told me that the members of the caste, not only from almost all parts of the State, but also from the British tāluks of Ponnāni, Chowghat, and even from Calicut, come to him with a Thirumulkazhcha, i.e., a few annas in token of their allegiance. This fact was also confirmed by a Kanakkanar (headman) at Cranganūr, who told me that he and his castemen were the slaves of the same landlord, though, in disputes connected with the caste, they abide by the decision of the local Rāja. In the event of illness or calamity in the family of a Kanakkan, an astrologer (Kaniyan), who is consulted as to the cause and remedy, sometimes reminds the members thereof of the negligence in their allegiance to the landlord, and suggests the advisability of paying respects to him (Nambikuru) with a few annas. On the Puyām day in Makaram (January-February), these people from various parts of the State present themselves in a body with a few annas each, to own their allegiance to him. The following story is mentioned by him. One of his ancestors chanced to pay his respects to one of the rulers of the State, when the residence of the Royal Family was in Cochin. On arriving near the town, the boat capsised in a storm, but was luckily saved by the bravery of a few rowers of this caste. The Rāja, who witnessed the incident from a window of his palace, admired their valour, and desired to enlist some Kanakkans into his service.

The Kanakkans are part of the lower castes and are still linked to certain landlords. In the tāluks of Trichūr, Mukandapuram, and Cranganūr, where I [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] gathered all my information about them, I found out that they are the Atiyars (slaves) of Chittūr Manakkal Nambūdiripad at Perumanom near Trichūr, and they owe him a form of loyalty. The Nambūdiri landlord told me that members of this caste, not just from almost all parts of the State but also from the British tāluks of Ponnāni, Chowghat, and even from Calicut, come to him with a Thirumulkazhcha, i.e., a few coins as a sign of their allegiance. This was also confirmed by a Kanakkanar (headman) at Cranganūr, who said that he and his community are the slaves of the same landlord, although, in caste-related disputes, they follow the decision of the local Rāja. If a Kanakkan's family faces illness or trouble, an astrologer (Kaniyan) is consulted for the cause and solution, and sometimes he reminds them of their obligations towards the landlord, suggesting that they should pay him (Nambikuru) a few coins as a sign of respect. On the Puyām day in Makaram (January-February), these people gather together from various parts of the State, each bringing a few coins to show their loyalty to him. He recounts the following story: One of his ancestors once paid his respects to a ruler of the State when the Royal Family lived in Cochin. As he approached the town, his boat capsized in a storm, but it was fortunately saved by the bravery of a few rowers from this caste. The Rāja, who saw the event from a window of his palace, admired their courage and wanted to recruit some Kanakkans for his service.

There are four endogamous sub-divisions among the Kanakkans, viz., Patunna, the members of which formerly worked in salt-pans, Vettuva, Chavala, and [154]Parāttu. Each of these is further sub-divided into clans (kiriyam), which are exogamous.

There are four endogamous sub-divisions among the Kanakkans: Patunna, whose members used to work in salt pans; Vettuva; Chavala; and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Parāttu. Each of these is further divided into clans (kiriyam), which are exogamous.

A young man may marry the daughter of his maternal uncle, but this is not permissible in some places. Marriage is both infant and adult, and may be celebrated by Patunna Kanakkans at any time between the tenth and thirteenth years of a girl, while the Vettuva Kanakkans may celebrate it only after girls attain puberty. They often choose the bridegroom beforehand, with the intention of performing the ceremony after puberty.

A young man can marry his maternal uncle's daughter, but this isn't allowed in some areas. Marriage can happen at any age, and Patunna Kanakkans can hold the ceremony anytime between a girl's tenth and thirteenth birthdays, while Vettuva Kanakkans can only do it after girls reach puberty. They often select the groom in advance, planning to have the ceremony once the girl matures.

When a girl attains maturity, she is kept apart in a part of the house on the score of pollution, which lasts for seven days. She bathes on the fourth day. On the morning of the seventh day seven girls are invited, and they accompany the girl to a tank (pond) or a river. They all have an oil bath, after which they return home. The girl, dressed and adorned in her best, is seated on a plank in a conspicuous part of the hut, or in a pandal (booth) put up for the time in front of it. A small vessel full of paddy87 (nerapara), a cocoanut, and a lighted lamp, are placed in front of her. Her Enangan begins his musical tunes, and continues for an hour or two, after which he takes for himself the above things, while his wife, who has purified the girl by sprinkling cow-dung water, gets a few annas for her service. It is now, at the lucky moment, that the girl’s mother ties the tāli round her neck. The seven girls are fed, and given an anna each. The relations, and other castemen who are invited, are treated to a sumptuous dinner. The guests as they depart give a few annas each to the chief host, to meet the expenses of the ceremony and the feast. This old custom of mutual help prevails largely among [155]the Pulayas also. The girl is now privileged to enter the kitchen, and discharge her domestic duties. The parents of the bridegroom contribute to the ceremony a small packet of jaggery (crude sugar), a muri (piece of cloth), some oil and incha (Acacia Intsia), the soft fibre of which is used as soap. This contribution is called bhendu nyayam. If the girl is married before puberty, and she attains her maturity during her stay with her husband, the ceremony is performed in his hut, and the expenses are met by the parents of the bridegroom, while those of the bride contribute a share.

When a girl reaches maturity, she is kept separate in a part of the house for purity reasons, which lasts for seven days. She bathes on the fourth day. On the morning of the seventh day, seven girls are invited to accompany her to a tank (pond) or a river. They all take an oil bath together and then return home. Dressed in her best clothes and adorned, the girl sits on a plank in a prominent spot in the hut or in a booth set up in front of it. A small container filled with paddy (nerapara), a coconut, and a lit lamp are placed in front of her. Her musician begins playing tunes for an hour or two, after which he takes the items while his wife, who purifies the girl by sprinkling cow-dung water, receives a small payment for her service. At the auspicious moment, the girl’s mother ties the tali (sacred necklace) around her neck. The seven girls are fed and given a small payment each. Relatives and other invited guests are treated to a lavish dinner. As the guests leave, they contribute a small amount each to the chief host to help cover the costs of the ceremony and feast. This longstanding tradition of mutual support is also common among the Pulayas. The girl is now allowed to enter the kitchen and carry out her domestic responsibilities. The groom's parents contribute a small bundle of jaggery (raw sugar), a cloth, some oil, and incha (Acacia Intsia), whose soft fibers are used as soap. This contribution is known as bhendu nyayam. If the girl gets married before puberty and reaches maturity while living with her husband, the ceremony takes place in his hut, with the groom's parents covering the costs and the bride's family contributing a share.

When a Vettuva Kanakka girl comes of age, the headman (Vatikāran) of the caste is informed. He comes, along with his wife, to help the girl’s parents in the performance of the ceremony. Seven girls are invited. Each of them breaks a cocoanut, and pours the water on the girl’s head. Water is also poured over her. As soon as she is thus bathed, she is allowed to remain in a room, or in a part of the hut. Near her are placed a mirror made of metal, a vessel of paddy, a pot full of water, and a lighted lamp. The young man who has been chosen as her husband is invited. He has to climb a cocoanut tree to pluck a tender cocoanut for the girl, and a cluster of flowers. He then takes a meal in the girl’s hut, and departs. The same proceedings are repeated on the fourth day, and, on the seventh day, he takes the cluster of flowers, and throws it on water.

When a Vettuva Kanakka girl reaches adulthood, the headman (Vatikāran) of the caste is notified. He arrives with his wife to assist the girl's parents in carrying out the ceremony. Seven girls are invited. Each one breaks a coconut and pours the water over the girl's head. Water is also poured over her. Once she is bathed, she is allowed to stay in a room or a part of the hut. Nearby are a metal mirror, a container of rice, a pot full of water, and a lit lamp. The young man chosen as her husband is invited. He needs to climb a coconut tree to pick a tender coconut for the girl, as well as a cluster of flowers. After that, he has a meal in the girl's hut and then leaves. The same process is repeated on the fourth day, and on the seventh day, he takes the cluster of flowers and tosses it into the water.

As soon as a young man is sufficiently old, his parents look out for a girl as his wife. When she is chosen, the negotiations leading to marriage are opened by the father of the bridegroom, who, along with his brother-in-law and Enangan (relations by marriage), goes to the house of the bride-elect, where, in the midst of relations and friends previously assembled, [156]the formal arrangements are made, and a portion of the bride’s money is also paid. The auspicious day for the wedding is settled, and the number of guests to be invited is fixed. There is also an entertainment for those that are assembled. A similar one is also held at the hut of the bridegroom-elect. These people are too poor to consult the local Kaniyan (astrologer); but, if it is known that the couple were born on the day of the same constellation, the match is at once rejected. On the day chosen for the celebration of the marriage, the bridegroom, neatly dressed, and with a knife and stylus, sets out from his hut, accompanied by his parents, uncles, other relatives, and men of his village, to the hut of the bride, where they are welcomed, and seated on mats in a pandal (booth) put up for the occasion. The bride, somewhat veiled, is taken to the pandal and seated along with the bridegroom, and to both of them a sweet preparation of milk, sugar and plantain fruits is given, to establish the fact that they have become husband and wife. There is no tāli-tying then. The guests are treated to a sumptuous dinner. As they take leave of the chief host, each of them pays a few annas to meet the expenses of the ceremony. The bridegroom, with the bride and those who have accompanied him, returns to his hut, where some ceremonies are gone through, and the guests are well fed. The bridegroom and bride are seated together, and a sweet preparation is given, after which the parents and the maternal uncle of the former, touching the heads of both, says “My son, my daughter, my nephew, my niece,” meaning that the bride has become a member of their family. They throw rice on their heads as a token of their blessings on them. After this, the couple live together as man and wife. In some places, marriage is performed by proxy. [157]A young Vettuva Kanakkan cannot marry by proxy. Neither can the tāli-tying ceremony be dispensed with.

As soon as a young man is old enough, his parents start looking for a girl to be his wife. Once she's chosen, the negotiations for the marriage begin, led by the groom's father, who, along with his brother-in-law and other relatives, visits the bride's home. There, surrounded by family and friends who have gathered, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]they make the formal arrangements and pay part of the bride's dowry. They decide on an auspicious date for the wedding and set the number of guests to invite. An event is also hosted for those gathered. A similar event occurs at the groom's place. They are too poor to consult a local Kaniyan (astrologer); however, if it’s known that the couple share the same birth constellation, the match is immediately called off. On the chosen wedding day, the groom, dressed nicely and carrying a knife and stylus, leaves his house with his parents, uncles, other relatives, and men from his village to visit the bride's hut. They are welcomed and seated on mats in a booth set up for the occasion. The bride, slightly veiled, is brought to the booth and sits next to the groom, where they are given a sweet dish made of milk, sugar, and plantains to signify that they are now husband and wife. There is no tying of the tāli ceremony then. The guests enjoy a lavish dinner, and as they say goodbye to the host, each contributes a small amount of money to help cover the ceremony's costs. The groom, accompanied by the bride and his party, returns to his home, where some ceremonies take place, and the guests are well fed. The groom and bride sit together, receive a sweet dish, and then the bride’s parents and maternal uncle touch the heads of both and say, “My son, my daughter, my nephew, my niece,” indicating that the bride has joined their family. They toss rice over their heads as a blessing. After this, the couple starts their life together as husband and wife. In some areas, marriages can be conducted by proxy. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]A young Vettuva Kanakkan cannot marry by proxy, nor can the tāli-tying ceremony be skipped.

If a woman has abandoned herself to a member of a lower caste, she is put out of caste, and becomes a Christian or Muhammadan. Adultery is regarded with abhorrence. All minor offences are dealt with by the headman, whose privileges are embodied in a Thīturam (royal order), according to which he may preside at marriage, funeral, and other ceremonies, and obtain a small fee as remuneration for his services. He may use a stick, a stylus, and a knife lined with gold. He may wear a white coat, turban and ear-rings, and use an umbrella. He may also construct a shed with six posts for marriage ceremonies. He has to pay a tax of ten annas to the Sirkar (Government). Chittūr Manakkal Nambūdiripad in the tāluk of Talapilly, the Cranganūr Rāja in the tāluk of Cranganūr, and His Highness the Maharāja exercise absolute powers in the settlement of disputes connected with this and other castes.

If a woman has become involved with someone from a lower caste, she is expelled from her caste and converts to Christianity or Islam. Adultery is viewed with disgust. All minor offenses are handled by the headman, whose authority is outlined in a Thīturam (royal order), allowing him to oversee marriage, funeral, and other ceremonies, for which he can collect a small fee for his services. He is permitted to use a stick, a stylus, and a gold-lined knife. He can wear a white coat, a turban, and earrings, and carry an umbrella. He can also build a shelter with six posts for marriage ceremonies. He has to pay a tax of ten annas to the Sirkar (Government). Chittūr Manakkal Nambūdiripad in the tāluk of Talapilly, the Cranganūr Rāja in the tāluk of Cranganūr, and His Highness the Maharāja have full authority in resolving disputes related to this and other castes.

The Kanakkans believe in magic, sorcery, and witchcraft. Persons who practice the art are very rare among them. They go to a Pānan, Vēlan, or Parayan, whenever they require his services. They profess Hinduism, and worship Siva, Vishnu, Ganapathi, and Subramania, Mūkkan, Chāthan, Kandakaranan, and the spirits of their ancestors are also adored. Vettuva Kanakkans do homage to Kappiri and Vīrabhadran also. Chāthan cannot be worshipped at Cranganūr, as he is opposed to the local deity. Wooden or brass images of their ancestors are kept in their huts, to whom regular sacrifices are offered on Karkadagom, Thulam, and Makaram Sankranthis. In their compounds is often seen a raised platform beneath a tree, on which are placed a few stones representing the images of the [158]demons whom they much fear and respect. Sacrifices are offered to them on leaves.

The Kanakkans believe in magic, sorcery, and witchcraft. People who practice these arts are quite rare among them. They seek the help of a Pānan, Vēlan, or Parayan whenever they need such services. They follow Hinduism and worship Siva, Vishnu, Ganapathi, and Subramania, along with Mūkkan, Chāthan, Kandakaranan, and the spirits of their ancestors. The Vettuva Kanakkans also honor Kappiri and Vīrabhadran. Chāthan cannot be worshipped at Cranganūr, as he is against the local deity. Wooden or brass images of their ancestors are kept in their homes, and they regularly offer sacrifices to them during Karkadagom, Thulam, and Makaram Sankranthis. In their yards, you can often see a raised platform under a tree, where a few stones are placed to represent the images of the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] demons that they greatly fear and respect. Sacrifices are made to them on leaves.

Patunna Kanakkans invariably bury their dead. The funeral rites are similar to those observed by other low castes. Death pollution lasts for fifteen days. On the sixteenth morning, the hut and compound are swept and cow-dunged. The relatives and castemen are invited, and bring some rice and curry stuffs for a feast. Along with the chief mourner (the son of the deceased) and his brothers, they go to the nearest tank or river to bathe. The Enangan of the family purifies them by the sprinkling of cow-dung water. They return home, and those assembled are treated to a grand dinner. The son observes the diksha (mourning) either for forty-one days, or for a whole year, after which a grand feast called Masam is celebrated.

Patunna Kanakkans always bury their dead. The funeral rites are similar to those followed by other low castes. The period of death pollution lasts for fifteen days. On the sixteenth morning, the hut and yard are cleaned and smeared with cow dung. Relatives and community members are invited and bring rice and curry for a feast. Together with the chief mourner (the deceased's son) and his brothers, they go to the nearest pond or river to bathe. The family Enangan purifies them by sprinkling cow-dung water. They return home, and everyone gathered is treated to a big dinner. The son observes mourning for either forty-one days or a whole year, after which a grand feast called Masam is celebrated.

The Kanakkans are employed in fishing in the backwaters, cutting timber and floating it on bamboo rafts down rivers flooded during the monsoon, boating, pumping out water from rice fields by means of water-wheels, and all kinds of agricultural labour. They were at one time solely engaged in the manufacture of salt from the backwaters. Women are engaged in making coir (cocoanut fibre) and in agricultural labour. Vettuva Kanakkans are engaged in cocoanut cultivating, and making lime out of shells. They are very skilful in climbing cocoanut trees for plucking cocoanuts.

The Kanakkans work in fishing in the backwaters, cutting timber and floating it on bamboo rafts down rivers that flood during the monsoon. They also boat, pump water out of rice fields using water-wheels, and do all sorts of agricultural work. At one time, they were solely focused on making salt from the backwaters. Women participate in making coir (coconut fiber) and agricultural labor. The Vettuva Kanakkans cultivate coconuts and produce lime from shells. They are very skilled at climbing coconut trees to harvest coconuts.

The Kanakkans take food prepared by members of the higher castes, and by Kammālans, Izhuvas, and Māppillas. They have a strong objection to eating at the hands of Veluthēdans (washermen), Velakkathalavans (barbers), Pānans, Vēlans, and Kaniyans. Pulayas, Ulladans, and Nayādis have to stand far away [159]from them. They themselves have to keep at a distance of 48 feet from high caste Hindus. They pollute Izhuvas by touch, and Kammālans and Valans at a short distance. They cannot approach the temples of the higher castes, but take part in the festivals of temples in rural parts. At Cranganūr, they can come as far as the kozhikallu, which is a stone outside the temple at a short distance from it, on which fowls are offered by low caste people.

The Kanakkans eat food prepared by members of higher castes, as well as Kammālans, Izhuvas, and Māppillas. They strongly refuse to eat food prepared by Veluthēdans (washermen), Velakkathalavans (barbers), Pānans, Vēlans, and Kaniyans. Pulayas, Ulladans, and Nayādis must keep a distance from them. They themselves have to stay at least 48 feet away from high caste Hindus. They pollute Izhuvas by touch, and Kammālans and Valans from a short distance. They cannot go near the temples of higher castes but can participate in festivals at rural temples. At Cranganūr, they can come as close as the kozhikallu, which is a stone a short distance from the temple where low caste people offer fowls.

Kanakku.—A prefix to the name of Nāyars, e.g., Kanakku Rāman Krishnan, and also adopted as a prefix by the Todupuzha Vellālas of Travancore.

Kanakku.—A prefix used by Nāyars, e.g., Kanakku Rāman Krishnan, and also taken on as a prefix by the Todupuzha Vellālas of Travancore.

Kanchāran.—A Malabar caste, the occupation of which is the manufacture of brass vessels.

Kanchāran.—A caste from Malabar known for making brass vessels.

Kanchēra.—Kanchēra and Kanchāri are names of the Telugu section of metal-workers.

Kanchēra.—Kanchēra and Kanchāri are names for the Telugu group of metalworkers.

Kānchimandalam Vellāla. —A name assumed by Malaiyālis of the Salem hills, who claim to be Vellālas who emigrated from Conjeeveram (Kānchipūram).

Kānchimandalam Vellāla. —A name taken on by Malaiyālis from the Salem hills, who assert they are Vellālas that migrated from Conjeeveram (Kānchipūram).

Kanchu (bell-metal).—An exogamous sept of Kuruba. Kansukejje (bronze bell) occurs as a sub-division of Toreya.

Kanchu (bell-metal).—An exogamous group of Kuruba. Kansukejje (bronze bell) is a sub-division of Toreya.

Kanchugāra.—In the Madras and Mysore Census Reports, Kanchugāra is recorded as a sub-division of Panchāla, the members of which are workers in brass, copper, and bell-metal. The Kanchugāras of South Canara are described by Mr. H. A. Stuart88 as “a Canarese caste of brass-workers. They are Hindus of the Vaishnava sect, and pay special reverence to Venkatrāmana of Tirupati. Their spiritual guru is the head of the Rāmachandrapuram math. A man cannot marry within his own gōtra or family. They have the ordinary [160]system of inheritance through males. Girls must be married before puberty, and the dhāre form of marriage (see Bant) is used. The marriage of widows is not permitted, and divorce is allowed only in the case of women who have proved unchaste. The dead are either cremated, or buried in a recumbent posture. Brāhmans officiate as their priests. The use of spirituous liquors, and flesh and fish is permitted. Bell-metal is largely used for making household utensils, such as lamps, goglets, basins, jugs, etc. The process of manufacturing these articles is as follows. The moulds are made of clay, dried and coated with wax to the thickness of the articles required, and left to dry again, a hole being made in them so as to allow the wax to flow out when heated. After this has been done, the molten metal is poured in. The moulds are then broken, and the articles taken out and polished.”

Kanchugāra.—In the Census Reports for Madras and Mysore, Kanchugāra is noted as a sub-division of Panchāla, consisting of individuals who work with brass, copper, and bell-metal. The Kanchugāras of South Canara are described by Mr. H. A. Stuart88 as “a Canarese caste of brass-workers. They are Hindus of the Vaishnava sect and have great respect for Venkatrāmana of Tirupati. Their spiritual leader is the head of the Rāmachandrapuram math. A man cannot marry within his own gōtra or family. They follow the standard [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] system of inheritance through males. Girls must be married before reaching puberty, and the dhāre form of marriage (see Bant) is practiced. The marriage of widows is not allowed, and divorce is only permitted in cases where women have been unfaithful. The deceased are either cremated or buried lying down. Brāhmans serve as their priests. The consumption of alcohol, along with flesh and fish, is allowed. Bell-metal is extensively used to make household items like lamps, goblets, basins, jugs, and so on. The process of making these articles is as follows: the molds are shaped from clay, dried, and coated with wax to the desired thickness. They are then left to dry again, with a hole made to allow the wax to escape when heated. Once that’s done, molten metal is poured in. The molds are then broken, and the items are taken out and polished.”

Kandappan.—A sub-division of Ōcchan.

Kandappan.—A subdivision of Ōcchan.

Kandulu (dāl: Cajanus indicus).—An exogamous sept of Yerukala. Kandikattu (dāl soup) occurs as an exogamous sept of Mēdara.

Kandulu (dāl: Cajanus indicus).—An exogamous group of Yerukala. Kandikattu (dāl soup) is also an exogamous group of Mēdara.

Kangara.—The word Kangara means servant, and the Kangaras (or Khongars) were originally village watchmen in the Vizagapatam Agency tracts, corresponding to the Kāvalgars of the Tamil country. They are described as follows by Lieutenant J. Macdonald Smith, who was Assistant Agent to the Governor in Jeypore in the sixties of the last century. “A Khongar, it seems, is nothing but a Kāvilgar or village watchman. That these people, in many parts of India, are little better than a community of thieves, is pretty well known, and what was the true nature of the system in Jeypore was very clearly brought to light in a case which was committed to my Court. It was simply this. Before [161]we entered the country, the entire police and magisterial authority of a tāluk was lodged in the revenue ameen or renter. Whenever a theft occurred, and the property was of sufficient importance to warrant the trouble and expense, the traveller or householder, as the case might be, resorted at once to the ameen, who (if sufficiently fed by the complainant) forthwith sent for the Head Khongar of the quarter, and desired him to recover the goods, whatever they might be. The Khongar generally knows very well where to lay his hand on the property, and would come back with such portion of it as the urgency of the ameen’s order seemed to require, while the zeal of that functionary of course varied in each case, according to the extent of the gratification the complainant seemed disposed to give. This is the Khongar system of Jeypore in its length and breadth, as proved at the trial referred to. Wherever a tāluk is taken up by the Police, the system of course falls down of itself. As for the Khongars, they willingly enlist in our village constabulary, and are proving themselves both intelligent and fearless.” The Meriah Officers (1845–61) remarked that the former Rājas of Jeypore, and their subordinate chiefs, retained in their service great numbers of professional robbers, called Khongars, whom they employed within the Jeypore country, and in the plains, on expeditions of rapine and bloodshed.

Kangara.—The word Kangara means servant, and the Kangaras (or Khongars) were originally village watchmen in the Vizagapatam Agency area, similar to the Kāvalgars of Tamil Nadu. Lieutenant J. Macdonald Smith, who served as Assistant Agent to the Governor in Jeypore during the 1860s, described them as follows: “A Khongar is essentially just a Kāvilgar or village watchman. It's well-known that in many parts of India, these individuals are little more than a group of thieves, and a specific case that came to my Court really highlighted the true nature of the system in Jeypore. Here’s how it worked: Before [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] we took over the area, the full police and judicial authority of a tāluk was held by the revenue ameen or renter. Whenever a theft occurred, and the stolen property was significant enough to justify the hassle and cost, the victim, whether a traveler or a homeowner, immediately went to the ameen. If the complainant provided enough incentive, the ameen would call for the Head Khongar of the area and ask him to retrieve the stolen goods, no matter what they were. The Khongar usually had a good idea of where to find the items and would return with whatever he deemed necessary based on the ameen's urgency, which of course varied depending on how much the complainant seemed willing to pay. This is the Khongar system of Jeypore in its entirety, as demonstrated in the trial mentioned. Whenever the Police took control of a tāluk, the system would obviously collapse. As for the Khongars, they are eager to join our village police and have proven to be both smart and brave.” The Meriah Officers (1845–61) noted that the former Rājas of Jeypore and their subordinate chiefs kept many professional thieves, called Khongars, in their employ, using them for raids and violence in the Jeypore region and beyond.

The Khongars were generally Paidis by caste, and their descendants are even now the most notorious among the dacoits of the Vizagapatam district. Their methods are thus described in the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district (1907). “Like the Konda Doras, they have induced some of the people to employ watchmen of their caste as the price of immunity from theft. [162]They are connected with the Dombus of the Rāyagada and Gunupur tāluks, who are even worse. These people dacoit houses at night in armed gangs of fifty or more, with their faces blackened to prevent recognition. Terrifying the villagers into staying quiet in their huts, they force their way into the house of some wealthy person (for choice the local Sondi, liquor-seller and sowcar89—usually the only man worth looting in an Agency village, and a shark who gets little pity from his neighbours when forced to disgorge), tie up the men, rape the women, and go off with everything of value. Their favourite method of extracting information regarding concealed property is to sprinkle the house-owner with boiling oil.”

The Khongars were mainly from the Paidis caste, and their descendants are still the most infamous among the bandits in the Vizagapatam district. Their methods are described in the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district (1907). “Like the Konda Doras, they have convinced some locals to hire watchmen from their caste in exchange for protection against theft. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]They are connected with the Dombus from the Rāyagada and Gunupur tāluks, who are even worse. These groups raid houses at night in armed gangs of fifty or more, with their faces blackened to avoid recognition. They intimidate villagers into staying quiet in their huts, force their way into the homes of wealthy individuals—often the local Sondi, liquor seller, and moneylender—who are usually the only ones worth robbing in an Agency village, and who get little sympathy from their neighbors when they are forced to give up their valuables. They tie up the men, assault the women, and steal everything of value. Their preferred method of extracting information about hidden property is to pour boiling oil on the house owner.”

Kangayan.—A division of Idaiyans settled in Travancore.

Kangayan.—A group of Idaiyans who settled in Travancore.

Kāniāla (land-owners).—A sub-division of Vellāla.

Kāniāla (landowners).—A subgroup of Vellāla.

Kanigiri (a hill in the Nellore district).—An exogamous sept of Mēdara.

Kanigiri (a hill in the Nellore district).—An exogamous group of Mēdara.

Kānikar.—The Kānikars, who are commonly known as Kānis, are a jungle tribe inhabiting the mountains of South Travancore. Till recently they were in the habit of sending all their women into the seclusion of the dense jungle on the arrival of a stranger near their settlements. But this is now seldom done, and some Kānikars have in modern times settled in the vicinity of towns, and become domesticated. The primitive short, dark-skinned and platyrhine type, though surviving, has become changed as the result of contact metamorphosis, and many leptorhine or mesorhine individuals above middle height are to be met with. [163]

Kānikar.—The Kānikars, commonly known as Kānis, are a jungle tribe living in the mountains of South Travancore. Until recently, they would send all their women into the dense jungle whenever a stranger approached their settlements. However, this practice is now rare, and some Kānikars have settled near towns and become more integrated into mainstream society. While the traditional short, dark-skinned, and broad-nosed type still exists, it has changed due to contact with other groups, and many taller individuals with narrower features can now be found. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

AV. MAX. MIN. AV. MAX. MIN.
Jungle 155.2 170.3 150.2 84.6 105 72.3
Domesticated 158.7 170.4 148 81.2 90.5 70.8

The Kānikars are said to be characterised by a high standard of honour, and to be straightforward, honest and truthful. They are good trackers and fond of sport, and in clearing forest paths they have hardly any equals. Their help and guidance are sought by, and willingly given to any person who may have to travel through the forests.

The Kānikars are known for their high standards of honor and are straightforward, honest, and truthful. They’re excellent trackers and enjoy sports, and when it comes to clearing forest paths, they have few rivals. Their assistance and guidance are sought after by anyone needing to travel through the forests, and they are always willing to help.

The jungle Kānikars have no permanent abode, but shift about from one part of the forest to another. Their settlements, composed of lowly huts built of bamboo and reeds, are abandoned when they suffer from fever, or are harassed by wild beasts, or when the soil ceases to be productive. The settlements are generally situated, away from the tracks of elephants, on steep hill slopes, which are terraced and planted with useful trees. In their system of cultivation the Kānikars first clear a patch of forest, and then set fire to it. The ground is sown with hardly any previous tillage. When, after two or three years, the land diminishes in productiveness, they move onto another part of the forest, and follow the same rough and ready method of cultivation. Thus one patch of ground after another is used for agricultural purposes, until a whole tract of forest is cleared. But the Kānikars have now to a large extent abandoned this kind of migratory cultivation, because, according to the forest rules, forests may not be set fire to or trees felled at the unrestricted pleasure of individuals. They cultivate various kinds of cereals and pulses, as well as tapioca [164](Manihot utilissima), sweet potatoes (Ipomœa batatas), ganja (Indian hemp), and tobacco. Each settlement now has a forest block assigned to it for cultivation, with which other tribes are not allowed to interfere, and wherein the Kānikars are allowed to fell, clear, and grow their crops. They do not pay anything in the way of tax to the Government. Once a year they go in a group to visit the Mahārāja at Trivandrum, and he “always receives them most kindly, accepting the nuzzur they offer in the shape of the bamboo plantain with large though few fruits, a parcel of Muttucheri hill rice, bamboo joints containing different varieties of honey, and virukachattam or a parcel of civet. The customary modes of court address, and the prescribed court etiquette are alike unknown to them, and the Mahārāja, pleased with their simplicity and unaffected homage, rewards them with presents of cloth, money, salt, and tobacco, with which they return satisfied to their jungle home.” The Rev. S. Mateer notes that he had difficulty in persuading the Kānikars to part with a sucker of the bamboo plantain, as they fancied it must be reserved for the use of the Mahārāja alone.

The Kānikars live a nomadic life in the jungle, moving from one area of the forest to another. Their homes consist of simple huts made from bamboo and reeds, which they abandon when they get sick, face threats from wild animals, or when the soil stops being fertile. These settlements are usually located away from elephant trails, on steep, terraced hillsides planted with useful trees. In their farming practices, the Kānikars first clear a section of the forest and then burn it. They plant crops without much preparation of the soil. After two or three years, when the land loses its fertility, they relocate to another part of the forest and use the same straightforward farming method. This cycle continues until large areas of the forest are cleared. However, the Kānikars have largely moved away from this type of shifting cultivation because forest regulations now prevent individuals from setting fires or cutting down trees at will. They grow various cereals, pulses, tapioca (Manihot utilissima), sweet potatoes (Ipomœa batatas), ganja (Indian hemp), and tobacco. Each group has a designated block of forest for farming that other tribes cannot touch, allowing the Kānikars to clear the land and cultivate their crops. They do not pay taxes to the government. Once a year, they visit the Mahārāja in Trivandrum, who always welcomes them warmly, accepting their gifts of bamboo plantains with large but few fruits, a bundle of Muttucheri hill rice, bamboo tubes filled with different kinds of honey, and virukachattam or a parcel of civet. They know nothing of the formal ways to address the court or the court etiquette, and the Mahārāja, appreciating their simplicity and genuine respect, rewards them with gifts of cloth, money, salt, and tobacco, which they take back happily to their jungle home. Rev. S. Mateer mentions that he found it hard to convince the Kānikars to part with a bamboo plantain sucker because they believed it was meant only for the Mahārāja.

Some Kānikars are engaged as coolies on planters’ estates, or in felling timber and cutting bamboos for contractors, others in the manufacture of bows and arrows with blunt or barbed iron heads. Heated arrows are used by them, for hitting elephants which invade their sugar-cane or other crop, from the safe protection of a hut built on a platform of sticks in tall trees of branches or bamboo covered with leaves of Ochlandra Travancorica or other large leaves. In connection with these huts, which are called ānamadam (elephant huts), it has been said that “the hills abound with game. ‘Bison’ (Bos gaurus), bears, and sāmbar (Cervus unicolor) [165]are frequently met with, while elephants and tigers are so numerous that the Kānikars are in some parts compelled to build their houses high up in trees. These primitive houses are quickly and easily constructed. The walls are made of bamboo, and the roof is thatched with jungle leaves. They are generally built about fifty feet above the ground, and are securely fastened to the branches of a substantial tree, and a crude ladder of bamboo connects them with the ground. When all the inmates are safely housed for the night, the ladder is removed aloft out of the reach of elephants, who, mischievously inclined, might remove the obstruction, and leave the Kānikars to regain terra firma the best way they could.” Sometimes a single bamboo, with the shoots on the sides cut short, does duty for a ladder. It has been said that, when the crops are ripening, the Kānikar watchmen are always at home in their arboreal houses, with their bows and arrows, and chanting their wild songs. Sometimes the blunt end of an arrow is used as a twirling stick in making fire by friction, for which purpose sticks made of Grewia tiliœfolia, etc., are also used. In making fire, the Kānikars “procure two pieces of wood, one of which is soft, and contains a small hole or hollow about half an inch deep to receive the end of the other, which is a hard round stick about eighteen inches long, and as thick as an ordinary ruler. The Kānikar takes this stick between the palms of his hands, keeping it in a vertical position, with the end of it in the hollow referred to, and produces a quick rotary and reverse motion, and with slight pressure causes the friction necessary to produce a quantity of fluff, which soon ignites.”

Some Kānikars work as laborers on plantations or in cutting timber and bamboo for contractors, while others make bows and arrows with blunt or barbed iron tips. They use heated arrows to shoot elephants that invade their sugar cane or other crops, staying safe in a hut built on a platform of sticks high in the trees, covered with leaves from Ochlandra Travancorica or other large leaves. These huts, called ānamadam (elephant huts), are located in hilly areas full of wildlife. Bison (Bos gaurus), bears, and sāmbar (Cervus unicolor) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] are commonly found there, while elephants and tigers are so plentiful that in some places, the Kānikars have to build their homes high in the trees. These simple houses are quick and easy to make, with walls made of bamboo and roofs thatched with jungle leaves. They are usually constructed about fifty feet above the ground, securely tied to the branches of strong trees, with a basic bamboo ladder connecting them to the ground. Once everyone is safely inside for the night, the ladder is removed to keep it out of reach of curious elephants, who might take it away and leave the Kānikars to find their way down as best as they can. Sometimes, a single bamboo is used as a ladder, with the side shoots trimmed short. When the crops are ripening, the Kānikar watchmen are always in their treehouses, bows and arrows at the ready, singing their wild songs. Sometimes, the blunt end of an arrow is used as a twirling stick to make fire by friction, using sticks from Grewia tiliœfolia, among others. To create fire, the Kānikars take two pieces of wood; one is soft with a small hole about half an inch deep to hold the end of the other, which is a hard, round stick about eighteen inches long and as thick as a regular ruler. They hold this stick vertically between their palms, placing the end in the hollow, and quickly twist it back and forth with slight pressure to create the friction needed to produce some fluff that ignites.

The Kānikars are employed by the Government to collect honey, wax, ginger, cardamoms, dammar, and [166]elephant tusks, in return for a small remuneration known as kutivāram. Other occupations are trapping, capturing or killing elephants, tigers, and wild pigs, and making wicker-work articles of bamboo or rattan. The Rev. S. Mateer mentions having seen a wicker bridge, perhaps a hundred feet long, over which a pony could pass. A tiger trap is said to be a huge affair made of strong wooden bars, with a partition at one end for a live goat as bait. The timbers thereof are supported by a spring, which, on a wild beast entering, lets fall a crushing weight on it.

The Kānikars work for the government to collect honey, wax, ginger, cardamom, dammar, and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]elephant tusks, for a small payment called kutivāram. Other jobs include trapping, capturing, or killing elephants, tigers, and wild pigs, as well as making wicker items from bamboo or rattan. The Rev. S. Mateer noted seeing a wicker bridge, about a hundred feet long, that a pony could cross. A tiger trap is described as a large structure made of strong wooden bars, with a section at one end for a live goat as bait. The logs are held up by a spring that, when a wild animal enters, drops a heavy weight onto it.

The Kānikars wander all over the hills in search of honey, and a resident in Travancore writes that “I have seen a high rugged rock, only accessible on one side, the other side being a sheer precipice of several hundred feet, and in its deep crevices scores of bees’ nests. Some of them have been there for generations, and the Kānikars perform periodically most daring feats in endeavouring to secure at least a portion of the honey. On this precipice I have seen overhanging and fluttering in the breeze a rattan rope, made in rings and strongly linked together, the whole forming a rope ladder several hundred feet long, and securely fastened to a tree at the top of the precipice. Only a short time ago these people made one of their usual raids on the ‘honey rock.’ One of the tribe descended the rope ladder for a considerable distance, with a basket fastened to his back to receive the honey, and carrying with him torch-wood with which to smoke the bees out of the nests. Having arrived at his goal two hundred feet from the top, and over three hundred feet from the ground below, he ignited the torch, and, after the usual smoking process, which took some little time to perform, the bees made a hurried exit from the nests, and the Kānikar began the [167]work of destruction, and with every movement the man and the ladder swayed to and fro, as if the whole thing would collapse at any moment. However, all was safe, and, after securing as much honey as he could conveniently carry, he began the return journey. Hand and foot he went up ring after ring until he reached the top in safety, performing the ascent with an air of nonchalant ease, which would have done credit to any steeple jack.” The honey is brought for sale in hollow bamboo joints.

The Kānikars roam the hills searching for honey, and a local resident in Travancore writes that “I’ve seen a tall, rugged rock that’s only accessible on one side; the other side is a steep drop of several hundred feet, and in its deep crevices, there are numerous bees’ nests. Some of these nests have been there for generations, and the Kānikars regularly pull off daring stunts to collect at least some honey. I’ve seen a rattan rope dangling and swaying in the breeze on this cliff, made of rings strongly linked together, creating a rope ladder several hundred feet long, securely tied to a tree at the top. Not long ago, these people made one of their usual trips to the ‘honey rock.’ One of the tribe members went down the rope ladder for quite a distance, with a basket strapped to his back to collect the honey, while carrying torchwood to smoke the bees out of the nests. When he reached his target two hundred feet from the top and over three hundred feet above the ground, he lit the torch, and after some time of the usual smoking process, the bees hurriedly flew out of the nests, and the Kānikar started the work of destruction. With each movement, the man and the ladder swayed back and forth, as if everything was about to collapse at any moment. However, everything was safe, and after getting as much honey as he could comfortably carry, he began to climb back up. He went up hand over hand on each ring until he reached the top safely, performing the climb with a relaxed ease that would impress any steeplejack.” The honey is brought for sale in hollow bamboo joints.

Sometimes Kānikars come into Trivandrum, bringing with them live animals for the zoological gardens.

Sometimes Kānikars come into Trivandrum, bringing live animals for the zoo.

The word Kānikaran means a hereditary proprietor of land. There is a tradition that there were once two hill kings, Srī Rangan and Vīrappan, whose descendants emigrated from the Pāndyan territories beyond Agastyakūtam under pressure from a superior force, and never returned to the low country. The following legend is current among the Kānikars. “The sea originally covered everything, but God caused the water to roll back, and leave bare all the hills. Then Paramēswara and Parvati made a man and woman, whose descendants were divided into fifty-six races, and multiplied exceedingly, so that a sore famine invaded the land. In those days men were hunters, and lived by snaring animals and plucking wild fruits off the trees. There was no corn, for men did not know how to sow rice, and cultivate it. The cry of the famine-stricken reached Paramēswara and Parvati, and they visited the earth in the form of a pair of hamsam (the bird which carries Brahma), and alighted on a kanjiram tree. While seated there, the god and goddess noticed a pair of dragon-flies, which paired together, and they too, their hearts swelling with love, embraced each other, and, taking pity on mankind, [168]willed that a field of rice should sprout on the low-lying land near the sea-shore. The Paraiyans and Pulayans, who witnessed the rice growing, were the first to taste of the crop, and became prosperous. This was in Malabar, or the far north of Travancore. The Mahārāja, hearing of the new grain, sent seven green parrots to go On a journey of discovery, and they returned with seven ears of rice. These the Mahārāja placed in a granary, and gave some to the Paraiyans to sow, and the grain miraculously increased. But the Mahārāja wanted to know how it was to be cooked. The parrots were accordingly once more brought into requisition, and they flew away, and brought back eighteen varieties of cooked rice which a Paraiyan’s wife had prepared. Then the Mahārāja, having got some rice prepared by his cooks, fell to and eat heartily. After eating, he went into the yard to wash his hands, and, before drying them on a cloth, wrung his right hand to get the last drops of water off. A valuable gold ring with three stones fell therefrom, and, burying itself in the dust, was never recovered. The Mahārāja was sore distressed by his loss, but, Paramēswara, as some recompense, caused to grow from the ground where the ring fell three trees which are very valuable in Travancore, and which, by the sale of their produce, would make the Mahārāja wealthy and prosperous. The trees were the dammar tree, the resinous gum of which is useful in religious ceremonies, the sandal-wood tree so widely used for its perfume, and lastly the bamboo, which is so useful and necessary to the well-being of the Kānikars.”

The term Kānikaran refers to a hereditary landowner. There's a story about two mountain kings, Srī Rangan and Vīrappan, whose descendants left the Pāndyan territories past Agastyakūtam due to pressure from a stronger force and never returned to the plains. The Kānikars share the following legend: “Originally, the sea covered everything, but God commanded the waters to recede, exposing all the hills. Then, Paramēswara and Parvati created a man and a woman, and their descendants multiplied into fifty-six races, which led to a severe famine in the land. Back then, people were hunters, surviving by catching animals and gathering wild fruits from trees. There was no rice since people didn’t know how to plant it and grow it. The cries of the hungry reached Paramēswara and Parvati, and they visited Earth as a pair of hamsam (the bird that carries Brahma), landing on a kanjiram tree. While resting, the god and goddess noticed two dragonflies mating, and they too felt love and decided, in their compassion for humanity, to make rice grow in the low-lying land by the sea. The Paraiyans and Pulayans, who saw the rice sprouting, were the first to taste it and prospered. This event happened in Malabar, or northern Travancore. Hearing about the new grain, the Mahārāja sent seven green parrots to investigate, and they returned with seven ears of rice. The Mahārāja stored these in a granary and gave some to the Paraiyans to plant, and the grain multiplied miraculously. However, the Mahārāja wanted to learn how to cook it. The parrots were called upon again, flew out, and brought back eighteen varieties of cooked rice made by a Paraiyan’s wife. The Mahārāja then had his cooks prepare rice and enjoyed a hearty meal. After eating, he went outside to wash his hands, and while wringing out the last drops of water from his right hand, a valuable gold ring with three stones slipped off and fell into the dirt, never to be found. The Mahārāja was very upset about his loss, but in compensation, Paramēswara caused three valuable trees to grow where the ring fell, which would make the Mahārāja wealthy through the sale of their products. The trees were the dammar tree, whose resin is used in religious ceremonies, the sandalwood tree, prized for its fragrance, and lastly, bamboo, which is essential for the livelihood of the Kānikars.”

Kānikars Making Fire.

Kānikars Making Fire.

Kānikars Creating Fire.

The sub-divisions among the Kānikars are known as illams or families, of which five are said to be endogamous, and five exogamous. The former are called Machchampi or brother-in-law illams, and the latter [169]Annantampi or brother illams. They are named after mountains (e.g., Pālamala, Talamala), places (e.g., Vellanāt), etc. The Kānikars who live south of the Kodayar river cannot marry those living north of it, the river forming a marital boundary.

The sub-divisions among the Kānikars are known as illams or families, with five being endogamous and five exogamous. The endogamous ones are called Machchampi or brother-in-law illams, while the exogamous ones are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Annantampi or brother illams. They are named after mountains (e.g., Pālamala, Talamala), places (e.g., Vellanāt), etc. The Kānikars living south of the Kodayar river cannot marry those living north of it, as the river serves as a marital boundary.

Among the names of Kānikars are Parapan (broad-faced), Chanthiran (moon), Marthandan (sun), Muntan (dwarf), Kāliyan (little Kali), Mādan (a deity), Nīli (blue) and Karumpi (black). The first name is sometimes that of the settlement in which they live. For example, the various Mullans are known as Kuzhumbi Mullan, Ānaimalai Mullan, Chembilakayam Mullan, etc.

Among the names of Kānikars are Parapan (broad-faced), Chanthiran (moon), Marthandan (sun), Muntan (dwarf), Kāliyan (little Kali), Mādan (a deity), Nīli (blue), and Karumpi (black). The first name is sometimes that of the settlement they live in. For example, the different Mullans are referred to as Kuzhumbi Mullan, Ānaimalai Mullan, Chembilakayam Mullan, etc.

The Kānikars live together in small communities under a Mūttakāni or headman, who wields considerable influence over them, and enjoys various perquisites. He presides over tribal council meetings, at which all social questions are discussed and settled, and fixes the time for clearing the jungle, sowing the seed, gathering the harvest, worshipping the gods, etc. Fines which are inflicted are spent in propitiating the gods.

The Kānikars live together in small communities led by a Mūttakāni or headman, who has significant influence over them and enjoys various benefits. He leads the tribal council meetings where all social issues are discussed and resolved, and he sets the schedule for clearing the jungle, planting seeds, harvesting, worshipping the gods, and more. Any fines imposed are used to appease the gods.

The language of the Kānikars is a dialect of Malayālam, with a large admixture of Tamil, which they call Malampāshai or language of the hills.

The Kānikars speak a dialect of Malayālam with a significant amount of Tamil mixed in, which they refer to as Malampāshai or the language of the hills.

The system of inheritance among those who live in the hills is makkathāyam (from father to son). But a moiety of the personal property goes to the nephews. With those who live in the plains, an equal distribution of their self-acquired property is made between the sons and nephews. If there are no sons, the nephews inherit the property, the widow being entitled to maintenance.

The inheritance system for people in the hills is passed down from father to son. However, a portion of personal property goes to the nephews. In contrast, those in the plains equally divide their self-acquired property between the sons and nephews. If there are no sons, the nephews inherit the property, while the widow is entitled to support.

The chief object of worship is said to be Sāsthan, a forest god. But the Kānikars also make offerings to a variety of deities, including Amman, Poothathan, Vetikād Pootham, Vadamala Poothathan, and Amcala. [170]They have, it has been said, “certain spots, trees or rocks, where their relations or friends have met with some unusual good luck or calamity, where they generally offer their prayers. Here they periodically assemble, and pray that the catastrophe that had befallen a comrade may not fall on them, or that the blessings which another had received may be showered on them.” Generally in February a festival called kodai is held, whereat the Kānikars assemble. Goats and fowls are sacrificed, and the pūjāri (priest) offers boiled rice and meat to the sylvan deities in a consecrated place. The festival, to which many come from the low country, winds up with drinking and dancing. The Kānikar musical instruments include a reed flute or clarionet, and men dance to the music, while the women clap their hands in time with it. The Kānikars worship their gods twice a year, in the months of Mīnam and Kanni. On the morning of the celebration, every family takes rice and plantains to the dwelling of the headman. With the exception of a small quantity which is set aside, the rice is husked and ground to flour by boys or men, after bathing and washing their hands and feet. The rice is taken to a clearing in the fields, whither a Kānikar who knows how to invoke the deity comes after bathing. He lays out a row of plantain leaves, and spreads on each leaf a little rice, on which plantains are laid. These are covered over with a plantain leaf, on which rice is sprinkled. The officiating Kānikar then burns incense, carries it round the trophy, and places it in front thereof. All do obeisance by raising their hands to their foreheads, and pray for a fruitful harvest. Sometimes the officiating Kānikar becomes inspired like a Velichapād, and gives expression to oracular utterances. At the close of the ceremony, a [171]distribution of the rice and plantains takes place. When the land is to be cleared for cultivation, the headman is invited to attend, and some rice and cocoanuts are presented to him, which he offers up, and clears a small portion with his own hand. On the first appearance of the ears of grain, the Kānikars spend two nights in drumming, singing, and repeating mantrams at the field, and put up a tattu or platform on four sticks as a shrine for the spirits, to whom they offer raw rice, tender cocoanuts, flowers, etc. At harvest time rice, plantains, sweetmeats, and flowers are offered to the various hill demons, Pūrcha Mallan Pey, the cat giant, Athirakodi Pey, the boundary flag demon, and others.

The main object of worship is known as Sāsthan, a forest god. However, the Kānikars also make offerings to several other deities, including Amman, Poothathan, Vetikād Pootham, Vadamala Poothathan, and Amcala. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] They have specific spots, trees, or rocks where friends or relatives have experienced unusual good luck or misfortune, and they usually offer their prayers there. They gather periodically to pray that the challenges another faced won't happen to them, or that the blessings someone else received will come their way. Typically in February, a festival called kodai is held where the Kānikars gather. Goats and chickens are sacrificed, and the pūjāri (priest) offers boiled rice and meat to the woodland deities in a sacred area. The festival, which attracts many visitors from the low country, ends with drinking and dancing. The Kānikar musical instruments include a reed flute or clarinet, with men dancing to the music while women clap along. The Kānikars worship their gods twice a year, in the months of Mīnam and Kanni. On the morning of the celebration, every family takes rice and plantains to the headman's house. With a small portion set aside, the rice is husked and ground into flour by boys or men after bathing and washing their hands and feet. The rice is taken to a clearing in the fields, where a Kānikar who knows how to invoke the deity comes after bathing. He lays out a row of plantain leaves and spreads a little rice on each leaf, placing plantains on top. These are then covered with another plantain leaf, and rice is sprinkled on top. The officiating Kānikar then burns incense, circles around the offering, and places it in front. Everyone shows respect by raising their hands to their foreheads and prays for a good harvest. Sometimes the officiating Kānikar becomes inspired like a Velichapād and makes prophetic statements. At the end of the ceremony, a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] distribution of rice and plantains takes place. When it's time to clear the land for cultivation, the headman is invited, and some rice and coconuts are presented to him, which he offers up while clearing a small area with his own hands. When the grain first appears, the Kānikars spend two nights drumming, singing, and reciting mantras in the fields, setting up a tattu or platform on four sticks as a shrine for the spirits, to whom they offer raw rice, tender coconuts, flowers, and more. At harvest time, rice, plantains, sweets, and flowers are offered to various hill demons, including Pūrcha Mallan Pey, the cat giant, Athirakodi Pey, the boundary flag demon, and others.

For the following note on a Kānikar harvest festival I am indebted to an article by Mr. A. P. Smith.90 It was performed in propitiation of the Baradēvata, or household gods of a house in the neighbourhood, the presiding deity being Mādan. The ceremony is commonly called the feeding ceremony, and should be carried out just before the harvesting of the grain commences. “The officiating Kāni is generally an elderly and influential man, who professes inspiration and knowledge obtained when asleep. The articles necessary to perform the ceremony are called Paduka or sacrifice, and Ashtamangalyam. Paduka is for the adult gods or manes, male or female, called Chava, and Ashtamangalyam is for the virgins who have died, called Kanyakas. A temporary pavilion or pandal had been erected in front of the house, and from the canopy long streamers of tender cocoanut leaves, bunches of plantains, and tender cocoanuts, with their husk on, were hung. Branches of areca nuts and flowers adorned the posts [172]and pillars. Small heaps, consisting of boiled rice, paddy, a tender cocoanut, a sprig of areca flowers, and betel were placed on plantain leaves in seven definite spots. The officiating Kānikar, after formally getting the permission of the assembled spectators, and especially of one who subsequently appeared on the scene as the chief dancer, began a monotonous chant in what appeared to be a mixed language. It was understood to be a history of the beginning of earthly kings, a record of the life and doings of departed souls, whose protection was prayed for, and a prayer for the souls of those persons for whose benefit the ceremony of propitiation was in progress. Now and again the feelings of the narrator or singer would overcome him, and he would indulge in a shout or in emphatic gesticulations. This went on for about three or four hours, punctuated at intervals by the firing of petards or old smooth-bore guns, and the shrill cries of the women. Before the chanting terminated, a large heap of the red flowers of Ixora coccinea (thetti pu), about a yard square at the base, had been raised in the centre of the pandal, and it was prettily picked out with areca flowers in artistic designs. The horrible sound of a human voice roaring like a wild beast aroused every one to a sense of activity. From behind the hut came the man already mentioned, very primitively clothed, his hair hanging loose, his eyes staring, and what appeared like foam at his mouth. He would stand, run short distances, leap, sit, agitate his body, and dance, keeping step to the rhythmic and muffled beating of the drum. This he did for ten minutes or so. Suddenly, with a shout, he dived into the hut specially set apart as the feeding place of the god Mādan, and presently appeared with two long sticks adorned at their ends with bells, [173]which emitted a jingling sound. The frenzy of motion, ecstatic, unregulated and ungovernable, was apparently infectious, for a young man, hitherto a silent spectator of the scene, gave a shout, and began to dance wildly, throwing up his arms, and stepping out quite actively. This encouragement stimulated the original performer, and he caught a man standing near by the neck, thrust the stick with the bells into his hand, and he thereupon started dancing as well. In about ten minutes there were some half a dozen wild dancing dervishes, shouting, gesticulating, revolving, and most certainly in an abnormal state of excitement. A dying but still glowing heap of fire and ashes became the centre of attraction, for the chief dancer danced over the fire, and sent the sparks flying, and scattered the wood, and evoked the admiration and eulogies of the crowd. Streaming with perspiration, spotted with ashes, wild, dishevelled and exhausted, the chief dancing demoniac stepped under the pandal, and finally sat himself before the heap of red flowers, and tossed the blossoms over his head in a kind of shower bath. He was assisted in this by the old Kānikar and other bystanders. A little boy was brought before him, and he called the lad by a name. This was his christening ceremony, for the lad assumed the name from that time. The chief dancer then stood up, and appeared to be still in a possessed state. A fine old rooster was brought, and its throat cut. It was then handed to the dancer, who applied his lips to the gaping wound, and drained the blood, swallowing the fluid audibly. Before relinquishing his hold of the bird, he swayed and fell on the ground in what seemed to be a swoon. This indicated that the sacrifice had been acceptable, that the propitiation was perfected, and that all the wishes of the persons interested in them would [174]be granted. The crowd then set to eating and drinking the sacrificial elements, and dispersed.”

For the following note on a Kānikar harvest festival, I am grateful to an article by Mr. A. P. Smith.90 It was held to honor the Baradēvata, or household gods, of a nearby home, with Mādan being the main deity. The ceremony is commonly known as the feeding ceremony, and it should take place just before the grain harvesting begins. “The officiating Kāni is usually an older, respected man, who claims to gain inspiration and knowledge while sleeping. The items needed for the ceremony are called Paduka or sacrifice, and Ashtamangalyam. Paduka is for the adult gods or spirits, male or female, called Chava, and Ashtamangalyam is for the virgins who have died, referred to as Kanyakas. A temporary pavilion or pandal was set up in front of the house, and long streamers of young coconut leaves, bunches of plantains, and young coconuts, with their husks on, were hung from the canopy. Branches of areca nuts and flowers decorated the posts [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]and pillars. Small piles of boiled rice, paddy, a young coconut, a sprig of areca flowers, and betel were placed on plantain leaves in seven specific spots. The officiating Kānikar, after formally getting permission from the gathered spectators, especially one who later appeared as the chief dancer, began a monotonous chant in what seemed to be a mixed language. It was understood to recount the history of the origins of earthly kings, a record of the lives and actions of departed souls, whose protection was being sought, as well as a prayer for the souls of those who benefited from the propitiation ceremony. Occasionally, the emotions of the narrator or singer would surge, prompting him to shout or make emphatic gestures. This continued for about three or four hours, interrupted now and then by the firing of firecrackers or old smooth-bore guns, and the shrill cries of women. Before the chanting ended, a large pile of the red flowers of Ixora coccinea (thetti pu), about a yard square at the base, had been raised in the center of the pandal, decorated artistically with areca flowers. The terrifying sound of a human voice roaring like a wild beast sparked everyone's attention. From behind the hut came the man already mentioned, dressed very simply, with his hair unkempt, his eyes wide, and what looked like foam at his mouth. He would stand, run short distances, leap, sit, shake his body, and dance, keeping time with the rhythmic and soft beating of the drum. He did this for about ten minutes. Suddenly, with a shout, he dove into the hut reserved for the god Mādan's feeding place and soon reappeared with two long sticks adorned at their ends with bells, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]which jingled. The frenzy of movement, ecstatic and wild, seemed contagious; a young man, who had been quietly watching, shouted and began to dance wildly, throwing up his arms and moving energetically. This encouraged the original performer, who grabbed a man next to him by the neck, thrust the stick with the bells into his hand, and he began dancing too. In about ten minutes, there were around half a dozen wild dancing dervishes, shouting, gesturing, spinning, and certainly in an excited state. A dying but still hot pile of fire and ashes became the focus of attention, as the chief dancer danced over the fire, sending sparks flying and scattering wood, earning the admiration and praise of the crowd. Sweating, covered in ashes, wild, disheveled, and exhausted, the chief dancing demoniac stepped under the pandal and finally sat down in front of the heap of red flowers, tossing the blossoms over his head like a shower. He was helped in this by the old Kānikar and other bystanders. A little boy was brought forward, and he called the boy by a name. This was his naming ceremony, for the boy adopted the name from that day forward. The chief dancer then stood up, still appearing to be in a trance. A fine old rooster was brought, its throat cut. It was handed to the dancer, who pressed his lips to the open wound and drank the blood, swallowing audibly. Before letting go of the bird, he swayed and fell to the ground, seemingly in a swoon. This indicated that the sacrifice was accepted, the propitiation was complete, and that all the wishes of those interested would [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]be fulfilled. The crowd then started eating and drinking the sacrificial offerings and dispersed.”

Both adult and infant marriage are practiced. Those who had married ‘infants,’ on being questioned, stated that this is the safest course, as grown-up brides sometimes run away to their parents’ house, whereas younger girls get accustomed to their husbands’ home. On a fixed day, within a month of the marriage ceremony, four Kānikars, accompanied by a boy carrying betel leaves and areca nuts, go to the home of the future bride, and present them to the families of the settlement. On the wedding morning, all assemble at a pandal (booth), and the bridegroom distributes pān-supāri (betel leaf and areca nuts). His sister then brings forward the bride, and the bridegroom presents her with a cloth, which she puts on. Bride, bridegroom, and a young boy, then stand on a mat beneath the pandal, and the bridegroom ties the minnu (marriage badge) round the neck of the bride if she is an infant. If she is an adult, he places the minnu in front of her neck, on which it is tied by his sister. A plantain leaf is then placed in front of the bridal couple, and curry and rice served thereon by their mothers. The two women then take hold of the bride’s head, and press it seven times towards her husband’s shoulders. This ceremony concluded, the young boy takes a small quantity of the curry and rice, and puts it in the mouth of the bridegroom seven times. The bridegroom’s younger brother then gives a morsel to the bride. The ceremonial terminates with a feast. The dowry includes billhooks, brass vessels, choppers, grain, and pulses. The headman, according to Mateer, offers some advice to the husband concerning the management of his wife. The heads of his discourse are arranged under the following heads:—teaching by [175]words, pinching, and blows, and casting the woman away at last, if she is not obedient. In the remarriage of widows, the bridegroom simply gives the woman a pair of cloths, and, with the consent of the male members of her family, takes her to his home.

Both adult and child marriages are common. When asked, those who have married young people say it's the safest option, as adult brides sometimes leave to their parents' house, while younger girls get used to living with their husbands. On a specific day, within a month after the wedding ceremony, four Kānikars, along with a boy carrying betel leaves and areca nuts, visit the future bride's home and present these items to the families in their community. On the morning of the wedding, everyone gathers at a pandal (booth), and the groom hands out pān-supāri (betel leaf and areca nuts). His sister then brings the bride forward, and the groom gives her a cloth, which she wears. The bride, groom, and a young boy then stand on a mat beneath the pandal, and if the bride is a child, the groom ties a minnu (marriage badge) around her neck. If she is an adult, he places the minnu in front of her neck, which is tied by his sister. A plantain leaf is then placed in front of the couple, and their mothers serve curry and rice on it. The two women hold the bride's head and press it toward her husband's shoulders seven times. After this ceremony, the young boy takes a small amount of curry and rice and feeds it to the groom seven times. The groom's younger brother then gives a bite to the bride. The ceremony ends with a feast. The dowry consists of billhooks, brass vessels, choppers, grain, and pulses. According to Mateer, the headman gives the husband some advice on how to manage his wife. His key points are organized under the following topics: teaching through words, pinching, blows, and eventually casting the woman away if she is not obedient. In the case of widows remarrying, the groom simply gives the woman a pair of cloths, and with the approval of the male members of her family, takes her to his home.

During the seventh month of pregnancy, a woman has to perform a ceremony called vaguthu pongal. Seven pots are placed on seven hearths, and, when the rice placed therein has boiled, the woman salutes it, and all present partake thereof. According to Mateer “the ceremony practised on the occasion of pregnancy is called vayaru pongal, when boiled rice is offered to the sun. First they mould an image of Ganēsha, and, setting it in a suitable place, boil the rice. To this they add for an offering aval or flattened rice, parched rice, cakes, plantain fruits, young cocoanuts, and tender leaves of the same palm, with the flowers of the areca palm. The headman then commences dancing, and repeating mantrams. He waves the offerings to the sun. On first giving rice to a child, a feast is held, and an offering presented to the jungle demons.”

During the seventh month of pregnancy, a woman has to perform a ceremony called vaguthu pongal. Seven pots are set on seven hearths, and when the rice in them has boiled, the woman pays her respects, and everyone present shares the food. According to Mateer, “the ceremony performed during pregnancy is called vayaru pongal, where boiled rice is offered to the sun. First, they shape an image of Ganēsha, place it in a suitable location, and boil the rice. They also add flattened rice, parched rice, cakes, bananas, young coconuts, and tender leaves from the same palm, along with flowers from the areca palm as offerings. The headman then starts dancing and reciting mantras. He waves the offerings toward the sun. When rice is first given to a child, a feast is held, and an offering is made to the jungle spirits.”

Concerning the death ceremonies, Mateer writes that “when any one is taken ill, the headman is at once consulted. He visits the sick person, and orders two drumming and singing ceremonies to be performed. A whole night is spent in dancing, singing, drumming, and prayers for the recovery of the patient. The offerings consist of tapioca, flour and cocoanuts, and other articles. After some time the headman, with manifestations of demoniac possession, reveals whether the sufferer will die or not. If the former, he repeats a mantram (kudumi vettu mantram, or formula on cutting off the top-knot), and cuts off the sick man’s kudumi. This being a sign of approaching death, the relatives and others pay their [176]last visits to the sick. After death, a mixture of ganja (Indian hemp), raw rice, and cocoanut, is put into the mouth of the corpse by the son and nephews, and it is buried at some distance from their abode, mantrams being repeated over it. Occasionally the corpse is cremated. The relatives bathe before returning home, and cannot take any of the produce of their lands till the death pollution is removed, fearing that wild beasts will attack them or destroy their crops. To this end a small shed is built outside their clearing on the third day. Three measures of rice are boiled, and placed in a cup or on a plantain leaf inside the shed. Then all bathe, and return home. On the seventh day all this is repeated, the old shed being pulled down, and a new one put up. On returning to their dwelling, they sprinkle cow-dung on their houses and in the yard, which finally removes the defilement. People in better circumstances make a feast of curry and rice for all present.” The cow-dung is sprinkled with leafy twigs of the mango or jāk tree, or flower stalks of the areca palm. The ashes, after cremation, are said to be collected in a pot or leaf, and thrown into the nearest stream or river. An annual ceremony, in commemoration of ancestors, is held, at which rice is boiled and offered up.

Concerning the death ceremonies, Mateer writes that “when someone falls ill, the headman is immediately consulted. He visits the sick person and instructs that two drumming and singing ceremonies be held. A whole night is spent dancing, singing, drumming, and praying for the patient’s recovery. The offerings include tapioca, flour, coconuts, and other items. After some time, the headman, showing signs of demonic possession, reveals whether the person will survive or not. If not, he recites a mantra (kudumi vettu mantram, or the formula for cutting off the top-knot) and cuts off the sick man’s kudumi. This act signifies impending death, and the relatives and others pay their last visits to the sick person. After death, the son and nephews place a mixture of ganja (Indian hemp), raw rice, and coconut into the mouth of the corpse and bury it some distance from their home, reciting mantras over it. Sometimes the body is cremated. The relatives bathe before returning home and cannot consume any of their land's produce until the death pollution is removed, fearing that wild animals will attack them or ruin their crops. To achieve this, a small shed is built outside their clearing on the third day. Three measures of rice are boiled and placed in a cup or on a plantain leaf inside the shed. Then everyone bathes and goes home. On the seventh day, the same process is repeated; the old shed is taken down, and a new one is built. Upon returning to their home, they sprinkle cow dung in their houses and yard, which finally cleanses the defilement. Those in better circumstances prepare a feast of curry and rice for everyone present.” The cow dung is sprinkled with leafy twigs from the mango or jāk tree, or flower stalks from the areca palm. After cremation, the ashes are said to be gathered in a pot or leaf and thrown into the nearest stream or river. An annual ceremony in memory of ancestors is held, where rice is boiled and offered.

The Kānikars, like the Irulas and Yānādis of the Tamil and Telugu countries, do not belong to the polluting classes. Pulayans, Kuruvans, and Vēdans are not allowed to approach them.

The Kānikars, similar to the Irulas and Yānādis from the Tamil and Telugu regions, do not belong to the lower castes. Pulayans, Kuruvans, and Vēdans are not permitted to come near them.

The dietary of the jungle Kānikars includes wild pigs, deer, porcupines, hares, monkeys, fowls, sheep and goats, parakeets, doves, tortoises, fish, crabs, peacocks, tigers (said to taste like black monkey), owls, squirrels and field rats, in addition to many vegetable products of the forest. They will not eat beef or the flesh of ‘bison.’ [177]

The diet of the jungle Kānikars includes wild pigs, deer, porcupines, hares, monkeys, birds, sheep, goats, parakeets, doves, tortoises, fish, crabs, peacocks, tigers (which are said to taste like black monkeys), owls, squirrels, and field rats, along with various plant products from the forest. They do not eat beef or the meat of bison. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Some Kānikars are tattooed on the forehead with a crescent and dot, or a vertical stripe. The Kānikars say that their ancestors wore a garment made of jungle fibre, which has been replaced by a cotton loin-cloth. “Both men and women,” Mr. M. Ratnaswami Aiyar writes, “wear on the neck numerous strings of red beads and rings made of shells, which hang down to the abdomen in the case of the women. The men wear ear-rings of brass or silver. The women wear bangles of brass and iron, and a number of brass rings on the fingers. The men bear suspended from one of their shoulders a cloth bag containing two or more partitions, in which they keep their vilangupetti or box containing betel, tobacco, and chunam. They carry, too, suspended from the shoulder, a cane basket wherein they place their day’s crop of grain or roots, or any other food obtained by them. They attach to their waist-string or cloth a billhook and knife, and carry their bows and arrows slung on their shoulders. Whenever the Kānikars from the different kānis or settlements have to be gathered together for a common meeting, or for going together elsewhere on a common purpose, a messenger amongst them carries from one kāni to another the message with a knot of fibres of creepers, which serves as a symbol of call. The knotted fibre is passed on from one kāni to another till the required assembly is secured. It is thus that I secured my Kānikars to present them to their Excellencies Lord and Lady Curzon.”

Some Kānikars have tattoos on their foreheads that show a crescent and dot, or a vertical stripe. The Kānikars say their ancestors wore clothing made from jungle fibers, which has now been replaced by cotton loincloths. “Both men and women,” Mr. M. Ratnaswami Aiyar writes, “wear several strings of red beads around their necks and rings made of shells, which hang down to the abdomen for the women. The men wear earrings made of brass or silver. The women wear bangles made of brass and iron, and several brass rings on their fingers. The men carry a cloth bag slung over one shoulder that has two or more compartments, where they keep their vilangupetti or box with betel, tobacco, and chunam. They also carry a wicker basket from their shoulder to hold their daily harvest of grains, roots, or any food they obtain. They attach a billhook and knife to their waistcloth or string, and carry their bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. When the Kānikars from different kānis or settlements need to gather for a group meeting or to travel together for a common purpose, a messenger among them takes a message from one kāni to another using a knot of creeper fibers, which acts as a call symbol. The knotted fiber is passed from one kāni to another until the necessary assembly is achieved. This is how I organized my Kānikars to present them to their Excellencies Lord and Lady Curzon.”

Kānikar.

Kānikar.

Kānikar.

For most of the information contained in this article I am indebted to Mateer’s ‘Native Life in Travancore,’ an article by Mr. Ratnaswami Aiyar,91 and notes by Mr. N. Subrahmani Aiyar. [178]

For much of the information in this article, I am grateful to Mateer’s ‘Native Life in Travancore,’ an article by Mr. Ratnaswami Aiyar, and notes by Mr. N. Subrahmani Aiyar. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kani Kuruppu.—Barbers of the Kaniyans.

Kani Kuruppu.—Kaniyan Barbers.

Kani Rāzu.—A name, denoting fortune-telling Rāzus, sometimes used as a synonym by Bhatrāzus, in whose songs it occurs. The name Kani-vāndlu, or fortune-tellers, occurs as a synonym of Yerukala.

Kani Rāzu.—A name that refers to fortune-telling. Rāzus, occasionally used as another term by Bhatrāzus, can be found in his songs. The name Kani-vāndlu, or fortune-tellers, is another term for Yerukala.

Kaniyan.—Kaniyan, spelt and pronounced Kanisan in Malabar, is a Malayālam corruption of the Sanskrit Ganika, meaning an astrologer. The word was originally Kani, in which form it invariably appears in Malayālam works and Tamil documents. The honorific suffix ‘ān’ has been added subsequently.

Kaniyan.—Kaniyan, spelled and pronounced Kanisan in Malabar, is a Malayālam version of the Sanskrit Ganika, which means an astrologer. The word was originally Kani, and it always shows up in Malayālam works and Tamil documents in that form. The honorific suffix ‘ān’ was added later.

The two titles, generally applied to Kaniyans, are Panikkar and Āsan. The former is said to be a common title in Malabar, but in Travancore it seems to be restricted to the north. The word Panikkar comes from pani, or work, viz., that of military training. The fact that most of the families, who own this title at present, were once teachers of bodily exercises, is evident not only from the name kalari, literally a military school, by which their houses are usually known, but also from the Kēralolpatti, which assigns military training as a duty of the caste. Āsan, a corruption of the Sanskrit Āchārya, is a common title among Kaniyans in South Travancore. Special titles, such as Anantapadmanābham, Sivasankaran, and Sankili, are said to be possessed by certain families in the south, having been conferred on them by kings in olden times. Some Kaniyans in the north enjoy the surname of Nampikuruppu.

The two titles usually associated with Kaniyans are Panikkar and Āsan. The first one is said to be a common title in Malabar, but in Travancore, it seems to be limited to the north. The term Panikkar comes from "pani," meaning work, specifically related to military training. It's clear that most families who hold this title today were once teachers of physical exercises, as shown by the name "kalari," which literally means military school, by which their homes are typically known. The Kēralolpatti also indicates that military training is a duty of the caste. Āsan, derived from the Sanskrit term Āchārya, is a widespread title among Kaniyans in South Travancore. Special titles like Anantapadmanābham, Sivasankaran, and Sankili are said to belong to certain families in the south, having been given to them by kings long ago. Some Kaniyans in the north carry the surname Nampikuruppu.

Kaniyans are divided into two endogamous sections, viz., Kaniyar and Tīnta (or polluting). The occupations of the latter are umbrella-making and spirit-exorcising, while the others remain astrologers, pure and simple. A few families, living at Alengad, are called Vattakan Kaniyans, and are believed to have come there on the [179]eve of Tīpū Sultan’s invasion. The women of the Kaniyans proper do not eat with them. According to tradition, eight sub-septs are said to have existed among the Kaniyans, four of which were known as kiriyams, and four as illams. The names of the former are Annavikkannam, Karivattam, Kutappilla, and Nanna; of the latter Pampara, Tachchazham, Netumkanam, and Ayyarkāla. These divisions were once endogamous, but this distinction has now disappeared.

Kaniyans are split into two endogamous groups: Kaniyar and Tīnta (or polluting). The Tīnta group is involved in making umbrellas and performing exorcisms, while the Kaniyar are primarily astrologers. A few families living in Alengad are known as Vattakan Kaniyans and are believed to have settled there on the eve of Tīpū Sultan’s invasion. The women of the Kaniyans do not share meals with them. Traditionally, it's said that there were eight sub-sects among the Kaniyans, with four called kiriyams and four known as illams. The kiriyams are Annavikkannam, Karivattam, Kutappilla, and Nanna; the illams are Pampara, Tachchazham, Netumkanam, and Ayyarkāla. These divisions used to be endogamous, but that distinction has faded away now.

In a note on the Kaniyans of the Cochin State,92 Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes that “there is some difference in the social status between the Kaniyans of the southern, and the Kalari Panikkans of the northern parts of the State. The latter profess a kind of superiority in status, on the ground that the former have no kalaris. It is also said by the latter that the occupation of the former was once that of umbrella-making, and that astrology as a profession has been recently adopted by them. There is at present neither intermarriage, nor interdining between them. The Kaniyans pollute the Kalari Panikkans by touch.” In connection with the old village organisation in Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes further that “every tara or kara (village) consisted of all castemen below Brāhmans, especially the Nāyars of all classes, more or less living in a community, the Kammālans, Izhuvans, Pānāns, Mannans, and other castemen living further apart. For every such village in the northern part of the State, there was also a Kalari Panikkan, with a kalari (gymnastic or military school), where the young men of the village, chiefly the Nāyars, were trained in all kinds of athletic feats, and in arms. The institution of the kalaris has [180]now disappeared, though the building remains in some places, and the Panikkans are now mainly astrologers and village schoolmasters. According to their own statement, Parasurāma, the great coloniser of Kērala, established kalaris throughout the kingdom, and appointed them as the masters to train Sūdra young men in all kinds of feats (one thousand and eight in number), for the protection of the country against foreign invaders. The Nāyars, who then formed the fighting race, were mostly trained by the Panikkans. In memory of this, the Kalari Panikkans of the northern portions of the State, and of South Malabar, profess even now a preceptorship to the Nāyars, and the Nayars show them some respect, being present at their marriages and other ceremonies. The Pannikkans say that the Nāyars obtained their kalaris from them. There are still a few among the Panikkans, here and there, fit to teach young men various feats. The following are the names of some of them:—

In a note about the Kaniyans of Cochin State,92 Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer states that "there's a difference in social status between the Kaniyans in the south and the Kalari Panikkans in the north of the State. The latter claim to have a higher status because the former do not have kalaris. The Kalari Panikkans also say that the Kaniyans initially worked as umbrella-makers and that they recently took up astrology as a profession. Currently, there is neither intermarriage nor shared dining between them. The Kaniyans are considered to pollute the Kalari Panikkans through touch." Regarding the traditional village organization in Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer adds that "each tara or kara (village) included all castes below Brāhmans, especially the Nāyars of various classes, generally living in a community, along with the Kammālans, Izhuvans, Pānāns, Mannans, and other castes living more dispersed. In every northern village, there was also a Kalari Panikkan, with a kalari (gymnastic or military school), where the village's young men, primarily Nāyars, were trained in various athletic skills and weaponry. The kalari system has [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]now disappeared, though some buildings still stand, and the Panikkans are now mostly astrologers and village schoolmasters. According to their account, Parasurāma, the great colonizer of Kērala, established kalaris across the kingdom and appointed them to train Sūdra young men in many skills (one thousand and eight in total) to defend the country against invaders. The Nāyars, who were the fighting class at the time, were primarily trained by the Panikkans. Remembering this, the Kalari Panikkans in the northern part of the State and in South Malabar still claim a teaching role to the Nāyars, who show them some respect by attending their weddings and other ceremonies. The Panikkans assert that the Nāyars received their kalaris from them. A few among the Panikkans are still capable of teaching young men various skills. Here are the names of some of them:—

(1) Pitichu Kali. Two persons play on their drums (chenda), while a third person, well dressed in a kacha, and with a turban on his head, and provided with a sword and shield, performs various feats in harmony with the drum beating. It is a kind of sword-dance.

(1) Pitichu Kali. Two people play their drums (chenda), while a third person, dressed nicely in a kacha and wearing a turban, holds a sword and shield and performs various moves in sync with the drumming. It's a type of sword dance.

(2) Parishathalam Kali. A large pandal (booth) is erected in front of the house where the performance is to take place, and the boys below sixteen, who have been previously trained for it, are brought there. The performance takes place at night. The chenda, maddhalam, chengala, and elathalam (circular bell-metal plates slightly concave in the middle) are the instruments used in the performance. After the performance, the boys, whom the Āsan has trained, present themselves before him, and remunerate him with whatever they can afford. [181]Parties are organised to give this performance on all auspicious occasions in rural districts.

(2) Parishathalam Kali. A big booth is set up in front of the house where the performance is going to happen, and the boys under sixteen who have been trained for it are brought there. The performance takes place at night. The instruments used in the performance include the chenda, maddhalam, chengala, and elathalam (circular bell-metal plates that are slightly concave in the middle). After the performance, the boys trained by the Āsan come before him and give him whatever they can afford as payment. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Parties are organized to hold this performance on all auspicious occasions in rural areas.

(3) Kolati. Around a lighted lamp, a number of persons stand in a circle, each with a stick a foot in length, and as thick as a thumb, in each hand. They begin to sing, first in slow time, and gradually in rapid measure. The time is marked by each one hitting his neighbours’ sticks with his own on both sides. Much dexterity and precision are required, as also experience in combined action and movements, lest the amateur should be hit by his neighbours as the measure is accelerated. The songs are invariably in praise of God or man.

(3) Kolati. Around a lit lamp, a group of people stands in a circle, each holding a stick about a foot long and as thick as a thumb, in both hands. They start singing slowly and gradually pick up the pace. The rhythm is created by each person tapping their neighbors’ sticks with their own on either side. This requires a lot of skill and precision, as well as experience in working together and moving in sync, so the beginners don’t accidentally get hit by their neighbors as the tempo speeds up. The songs are always in praise of God or humanity.

The Kaniyans, according to one tradition, are Brāhman astrologers, who gradually lost their position, as their predictions became less and less accurate. Concerning their legendary history, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes as follows. “Once, says one of these legends, when the god Subrahmanya, son of Siva, and his friend were learning astrology, they knew that the sound of a lizard close by foreboded some evil to the mother of the former. The friend practiced some magical rite, which averted the evil. His mother, who had been in a state of unconsciousness, suddenly woke up as if from slumber, and asked the son ‘Kany-ar,’ i.e., who it was that she looked at. To which the son replied that she was looking at a Kaniyan (astrologer). The Kaniyans still believe that the umbrella, the stick, the holy ashes, and the purse of cowries, which form the paraphernalia of a Kaniyan nowadays, were given by Subramanya. The following is another tradition regarding the origin of the caste. In ancient times, it is said, Pānāns, Vēlans, and Kaniyans were practicing magic, but astrology as a profession was practiced exclusively by the Brāhmans. [182]There lived a famous astrologer, Thalakkaleth Bhattathiripad, who was the most renowned of the astrologers of the time. He had a son whose horoscope he cast, and from it he concluded that his son would live long. Unfortunately he proved to be mistaken, for his son died. Unable to find out the error in his calculation and prediction, he took the horoscope to an equally famous astrologer of the Chōla kingdom, who, aware of the cause of his advent, directed him to adore some deity that might aid him in the working out of his predictions. Accordingly he came to the Trichūr temple, where, as directed, he spent some days in devotion to the deity. Thereafter he worked wonders in astrology, and became so well known in Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore, that he commanded the respect and admiration of the rulers, who invited him to cast horoscopes, and make predictions. For so doing he was liberally rewarded. One day a Brāhman, hearing that his guru at Benares was seriously ill, consulted the Bhattathiripad whether and how he would be able to see him before his death. The Brāhman astrologer directed him to go to the southern side of the Trichūr temple, where he would see two persons coming towards him, who might gratify his desire to see his preceptor. These persons were really the servants of Yama (the god of death). They asked him to touch them, and he at once found himself at the side of his teacher. The Brāhman was asked who had directed him to them, and, when he told them that it was the renowned Brāhman astrologer, they cursed him, saying that he would become an outcaste. This fate came as no surprise to the astrologer, for he had already perceived from an evil conjunction of the planets that disgrace and danger were impending. To try to avoid the sad fate which he foresaw, he left [183]his home and friends, and set out on a boating excursion in a river close by Pazhūr. The night was dark, and it was midnight when he reached the middle of the stream. A severe storm, accompanied by rain, had come on, and the river was in flood. He was swept away to an unknown region, and scrambled ashore in torrents of rain and in darkness, when he saw a light in a house near where he landed, and he made for it in an exhausted condition. On reaching it, he lay down in the verandah at the gate of the house, musing on the untoward events of the night, and on his affectionate family whom he had left. The hut belonged to the family of a Kaniyan,93 who, as it happened, had had a quarrel with his wife that day, and had left his hut. Anxiously expecting her husband’s return, the wife opened the door about midnight, and, seeing a man lying in the verandah, mistook him for her husband. The man was so wrapt in his thoughts of his home that he in turn mistook her for his wife. When the Brāhman woke up from his slumber, he found her to be a Kaniya woman. On looking at the star in the heavens to calculate the precise time, he saw that the prediction that he would become an outcaste had been fulfilled. He accepted the degradation, and lived the rest of his days with the Kaniya woman. She bore him several sons, whom in due course he educated in the lore of his profession, and for whom, by his influence, he obtained an important place in the Hindu social system as astrologers (Ganikans). It is said that, according to his instruction, his body, after his death, was placed in a coffin, and buried in the courtyard of the house. The spot is still shown, and an elevated platform is constructed, [184]with a thatched roof over it. A lighted lamp is placed at all times on the platform, and in front of it astrological calculations and predictions are made, for it is believed that those who made such calculations there will have the aid of the spirit of their dead Brāhman ancestor, who was so learned in the science that he could tell of events long past, and predict even future birth. As an instance of the last, the following incident may be given. Once the great Brāhman ascetic Vilwamangalath Swāmiyar was suffering severely from pains in the stomach, when he prayed to the divine Krishna for relief. Finding no remedy, he turned to a Brāhman friend, a Yōgi, who gave him some holy ashes, which he took, and which relieved him of the pains. He mentioned the fact to his beloved god Krishna, who, by the pious adoration of the ascetic, appeared before him, when he said that he would have three births in the world instead of one which was destined for him. With an eager desire to know what they would be, he consulted the Bhattathiripad, who said that he would be born first as a rat-snake (Zamenis mucosus), then as an ox, and thirdly as a tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum), and that he would be along with him in these births. With great pleasure he returned home. It is also said that the astrologer himself was born as an ox, and was in this form afterwards supported by the members of his family. The incident is said to have taken place at Pazhūr, eighteen miles east of Ernakulam. The members of the family are called Pazhūr Kaniyans, and are well known throughout Malabar, Cochin and Travancore, for their predictions in astrology, and all classes of people even now resort to them for aid in predictions. The Kalari Panikkans in the northern parts of the Cochin State have a different account of the origin of the caste. [185]Once, they say, a sage and astrologer, named a Ganikan, was making prediction to a Sūdra regarding his future destiny. As this was done by him when in an uncleanly state, he was cursed by the Saptharishis (seven sages). The Panikkans who are reputed to be his descendants are ordained to be teachers and astrologers of all castes below Brāhmans.”

The Kaniyans, according to one tradition, are Brahmin astrologers who gradually lost their status as their predictions became less accurate. Regarding their legendary history, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes: “Once, according to one of these legends, when the god Subrahmanya, the son of Shiva, and his friend were learning astrology, they realized that the sound of a lizard nearby signaled bad news for Subrahmanya’s mother. The friend performed a magical rite that averted the evil. His mother, who had been unconscious, suddenly woke up as if from a deep sleep and asked her son ‘Kany-ar,’ meaning who it was that she was looking at. The son replied that she was looking at a Kaniyan (astrologer). The Kaniyans still believe that the umbrella, the stick, the holy ashes, and the pouch of cowries, which are the equipment of a Kaniyan today, were given by Subrahmanya. There’s another tradition about the origin of the caste. In ancient times, it is said, Pānāns, Vēlans, and Kaniyans practiced magic, but astrology as a profession was exclusively practiced by the Brahmins. There lived a famous astrologer, Thalakkaleth Bhattathiripad, who was the most renowned astrologer of his time. He cast a horoscope for his son and concluded that his son would have a long life. Unfortunately, he was mistaken, as his son died. Unable to find the error in his calculations and predictions, he took the horoscope to another famous astrologer of the Chola kingdom. Aware of why he came, this astrologer advised him to worship a deity that could help him with his predictions. Following this advice, he went to the Trichūr temple, where, as instructed, he spent several days in devotion to the deity. After that, he performed wonders in astrology and became so well-known in Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore that he earned the respect of rulers, who invited him to cast horoscopes and make predictions. For this, he received generous rewards. One day, a Brahmin, learning that his guru in Benares was seriously ill, asked Bhattathiripad whether and how he could see him before his death. The Brahmin astrologer told him to go to the southern side of the Trichūr temple, where he would see two people approaching who could help him meet his teacher. These were actually servants of Yama (the god of death). They asked him to touch them, and he instantly found himself by his teacher's side. The Brahmin was questioned about who had directed him to them, and when he mentioned the renowned Brahmin astrologer, they cursed him, saying he would become an outcast. This fate did not surprise the astrologer, as he had already seen from an unfavorable planetary alignment that disgrace and danger were coming. To try to escape the unfortunate fate he foresaw, he left his home and friends and went on a boating trip on a river near Pazhūr. The night was dark, and it was midnight when he reached the middle of the river. A severe storm came with rain, and the river flooded. He was swept away to an unknown area and struggled ashore in heavy rain and darkness when he noticed a light in a house nearby and made his way towards it, exhausted. Upon reaching it, he lay down in the verandah at the door of the house, reflecting on the unfortunate events of the night and his loving family whom he had left. The hut belonged to a Kaniyan family who, coincidentally, had quarreled that day, and the husband had left. While anxiously waiting for her husband’s return, the wife opened the door around midnight and, seeing a man lying in the verandah, mistook him for her husband. The man was so lost in thought about his home that he in turn mistook her for his wife. When the Brahmin woke up from his slumber, he found her to be a Kaniyan woman. Looking at the stars to calculate the exact time, he realized that the prediction of him becoming an outcast had come true. He accepted his fall and lived the rest of his days with the Kaniyan woman. She bore him several sons, whom he eventually educated in his profession’s lore, and with his influence, he secured an important place for them in Hindu society as astrologers (Ganikans). It is said that according to his wishes, his body, after death, was placed in a coffin and buried in the courtyard of the house. The spot is still shown, with an elevated platform built, topped with a thatched roof. A lit lamp is always kept on the platform, and astrological calculations and predictions are made in front of it, as it is believed that those who conduct such calculations there receive help from the spirit of their learned Brahmin ancestor, who could recount past events and even predict future births. For an example of the latter, consider this incident: Once, the great Brahmin ascetic Vilwamangalath Swāmiyar suffered a lot from stomach pains and prayed to the divine Krishna for relief. Finding no solution, he turned to a Brahmin friend, a Yogi, who gave him some holy ashes. After taking them, he found relief from the pains. He mentioned this to his beloved god Krishna, who, pleased with the ascetic's devotion, appeared before him and said he would have three births instead of the one that was destined for him. Eager to know what they would be, he consulted Bhattathiripad, who informed him that he would be born first as a rat-snake (Zamenis mucosus), then as an ox, and thirdly as a tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum), and that he would be with him in these births. With great joy, he returned home. It is also said that the astrologer himself was born as an ox and was later supported by his family in this form. This event is said to have occurred at Pazhūr, eighteen miles east of Ernakulam. The family members are now known as Pazhūr Kaniyans and are well recognized throughout Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore for their astrological predictions, with people from all walks of life still seeking their guidance in forecasts. The Kalari Panikkans in the northern parts of the Cochin State have a different account of the origin of the caste. They say that once a sage and astrologer named Ganikan was making predictions for a Sudra about his future. Since he did this in an unclean state, he was cursed by the Saptharishis (seven sages). The Panikkans, who are believed to be his descendants, are designated as teachers and astrologers for all castes below Brahmins.”

According to another legendary account, there were Kaniyans before the time of Bhattatiri, but their astrological attainments are connected with him. Talakulattu Bhattatiri was one of the earliest astrologers of renown, being the author of Muhūrtapadavi, and lived in the fourth century A.D. There is a tradition, believed by the Kaniyans south of Neyyattenkara, that their ancestor was descended from the union of a Gandharva woman with Kani, a Brāhman saint, who lived in the western ghāts. Their grandson propitiated the god Subrahmanya presiding over astronomy, and acquired the surname Nālīka from his never-ceasing truthfulness. Some of the southern Kaniyans even at the present day call themselves Nāli. According to another legend, Paramēswara and his wife Parvati were living happily together, when Agni fell desperately in love with the latter. Eventually, Paramēswara caught them together, and, to save Agni, Parvati suggested that he should hide himself inside her body. On Agni doing this, Parvati became very indisposed, and Paramēswara, distressed at seeing his wife rolling in agony, shed tears, one of which fell on the ground, and became turned into a man, who, being divinely born, detected the cause of Parvati’s indisposition, and, asking for some incense, sprinkled it over a blazing torch. Agni, seeing his opportunity, escaped in the smoke, and Parvati had instant relief. For this service, [186]Paramēswara blessed the man, and appointed him and his descendants to cure diseases, exorcise demons, and foretell events.

According to another legendary story, there were Kaniyans before Bhattatiri's time, but their astrological skills are linked to him. Talakulattu Bhattatiri was one of the earliest famous astrologers, known for writing Muhūrtapadavi, and lived in the fourth century A.D. There’s a tradition, believed by the Kaniyans south of Neyyattenkara, that their ancestor came from the union of a Gandharva woman and Kani, a Brāhman saint who lived in the western ghats. Their grandson honored the god Subrahmanya, who oversees astronomy, and earned the name Nālīka for his consistent honesty. Some of the southern Kaniyans still call themselves Nāli today. In another tale, Paramēswara and his wife Parvati were living happily when Agni fell madly in love with her. Eventually, Paramēswara found them together, and to save Agni, Parvati suggested he hide inside her body. When Agni did this, Parvati became very unwell, and Paramēswara, distressed to see his wife in pain, shed tears. One of these tears fell to the ground and turned into a man, who was divinely born and figured out why Parvati was suffering. He asked for some incense and sprinkled it over a blazing torch. Agni, seizing the chance, escaped in the smoke, and Parvati was instantly relieved. For this act, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Paramēswara blessed the man and assigned him and his descendants the roles of healing diseases, exorcising demons, and predicting events.

The Kaniyans of Malabar have been connected by tradition with the Valluvans of the Tamil country, who are the priests, doctors, and astrologers of the Pallans and Paraiyans. According to this tradition, the modern Kaniyans are traced to the Valluvans brought from the east by a Perumāl who ruled over Kerala in 350 M.E. The latter are believed to have become Kaniyans proper, while the old Kaniyans of the west coast descended to the rank of Tīntā Kaniyans. The chief of the Valluvans so brought was a Yōgi or ascetic, who, being asked by a Nambūtiri concerning a missing article at Pazhūr, replied correctly that the lost ring had been placed in a hole in the bank of the Nambūtiri’s tank (pond), and was consequently invited to settle there permanently.

The Kaniyans of Malabar have traditionally been linked to the Valluvans of Tamil Nadu, who serve as priests, doctors, and astrologers for the Pallans and Paraiyans. According to this tradition, modern Kaniyans are said to have descended from the Valluvans brought from the east by a Perumāl who ruled Kerala around 350 M.E. It is believed that these Valluvans transformed into proper Kaniyans, while the original Kaniyans on the west coast were downgraded to Tīntā Kaniyans. The leader of the Valluvans brought over was a Yōgi or ascetic, who, when asked by a Nambūtiri about a missing item at Pazhūr, correctly stated that the lost ring was placed in a hole in the bank of the Nambūtiri’s tank (pond), and as a result, he was invited to settle there permanently.

The Kaniyans are easily recognised by their punctilious cleanness of person and clothing, the iron style and knife tucked into the waist, the palm umbrella with its ribs holding numbers of horoscopes, their low artistic bow, and their deliberate answers to questions put to them. Most of them are intelligent, and well versed in Malayālam and Sanskrit. They are, however, not a flourishing community, being averse to manual labour, and depending for their living on their hereditary profession. There are no more conservative people in Travancore, and none of them have taken kindly to western education. In their clothing they follow the orthodox Malabar fashion. The dress of the males seldom hangs loose, being tucked in in token of humility. The Kaniyan, when wanted in his professional capacity, presents himself with triple ash marks of Siva on his chest, arms, and forehead. The woman’s ornaments [187]resemble those of the Izhuvans. Fish and flesh are not forbidden as food, but there are many families, as those of Pazhūr and Onakkūru, which strictly abstain from meat. Marriage between families which eat and abstain from flesh is not absolutely forbidden. But a wife must give up eating flesh immediately on entering the house of her vegetarian husband. The profession of the Kaniyans is astrology. Marco Polo, writing as early as the thirteenth century about Travancore, says that it was even then pre-eminently the land of astrologers. Barbosa, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, has a detailed reference to the Kaniyans, of whom he writes that “they learn letters and astronomy, and some of them are great astrologers, and foretell many future things, and form judgments upon the births of men. Kings and great persons send to call them, and come out of their palaces to gardens and pleasure-grounds to see them, and ask them what they desire to know; and these people form judgment upon these things in a few days, and return to those that asked of them, but they may not enter the palaces; nor may they approach the king’s person on account of being low people. And the king is then alone with him. They are great diviners, and pay great attention to times and places of good and bad luck, which they cause to be observed by those kings and great men, and by the merchants also; and they take care to do their business at the time which these astrologers advise them, and they do the same in their voyages and marriages. And by these means these men gain a great deal.” Buchanan, three centuries later, alludes in the same glowing terms to the prosperity of the Kaniyans. He notes that they are of very low caste, a Nambūtiri coming within twenty-four feet of one being obliged to purify himself by prayer and ablution. “The [188]Kaniyans,” he writes, “possess almanacks, by which they inform people as to the proper time for performing ceremonies or sowing their seeds, and the hours which are fortunate or unfortunate for any undertaking. When persons are sick or in trouble, the Cunishun, by performing certain ceremonies in a magical square of 12 places, discovers what spirit is the cause of the evil, and also how it may be appeased. Some Cunishuns possess mantrams, with which they pretend to cast out devils.” Captain Conner notes twenty years later that “Kanneans derive the appellation from the science of divination, which some of their sect profess. The Kannean fixes the propitious moment for every undertaking, all hysterical affections being supposed to be the visitation of some troublesome spirit. His incantations are believed alone able to subdue it.”

The Kaniyans are easily recognized by their meticulous cleanliness in both person and clothing, the iron style and knife tucked into their waist, the palm umbrella with its ribs holding multiple horoscopes, their low artistic bows, and their thoughtful responses to questions. Most of them are intelligent and fluent in Malayālam and Sanskrit. However, they’re not a thriving community, as they tend to shy away from manual labor and rely on their traditional profession for their livelihood. There are no more traditional people in Travancore, and they have not embraced western education. In their clothing, they follow the traditional Malabar style. Men's clothing is rarely worn loose and is tucked in as a sign of humility. When a Kaniyan is called for his professional expertise, he presents himself with three ash marks of Siva on his chest, arms, and forehead. The women’s ornaments [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] resemble those of the Izhuvans. Fish and meat are not forbidden, but many families, like those in Pazhūr and Onakkūru, strictly avoid meat. Marriage between families that eat and abstain from meat is not completely prohibited, but a wife must stop eating meat as soon as she enters her vegetarian husband’s home. The Kaniyans’ profession is astrology. Marco Polo, writing as early as the thirteenth century about Travancore, noted that it was already well-known as the land of astrologers. Barbosa, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, detailed the Kaniyans, stating that “they learn to read and study astronomy, and some of them are great astrologers who predict many future events and make judgments based on births. Kings and important people summon them and come out of their palaces to gardens and pleasure-grounds to consult them, asking for insights. These astrologers provide answers within a few days, but they cannot enter the palaces or approach the king because of their lower status. The king is then alone with him. They are significant diviners and pay close attention to times and places of good and bad luck, which they advise kings, nobles, and merchants to observe; they plan their actions according to the astrologers’ recommendations, including in business, travel, and marriage. This way, these men make a lot of money.” Buchanan, three centuries later, referred similarly to the Kaniyans' prosperity, highlighting their low caste status, stating that a Nambūtiri must purify themselves through prayer and washing if they come within twenty-four feet of one. “The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Kaniyans,” he writes, “own almanacs that help inform people about the right time for ceremonies or planting seeds, as well as the auspicious or inauspicious hours for any task. When someone is sick or troubled, the Cunishun conducts certain rituals in a magical square of 12 places to identify the spirit causing the issue and how to appease it. Some Cunishuns have mantras that they claim can exorcise demons.” Captain Conner noted twenty years later that “Kanneans derive their name from the art of divination, which some of their group practice. The Kannean determines the right moment for every action, believing that all hysterical conditions are caused by troublesome spirits. His incantations are thought to have the power to control it.”

The Kaniyans are practically the guiding spirits in all the social and domestic concerns of Travancoreans, and even Muhammadans and Christians do not fail to profit by their wisdom. From the moment of the birth of an infant, which is noted by the Kaniyan for the purpose of casting its horoscope, to the moment of death, the services of the village astrologer are constantly in requisition. He is invariably consulted as to the cause of all calamities, and the cautious answers that he gives satisfy the people. “Putrō na putri,” which may either mean no son but a daughter, or no daughter but a son, is jocosely referred to as the type of a Kaniyan’s answer, when questioned about the sex of a child in utero. “It would be difficult,” Mr. Logan writes,94 “to describe a single important occasion in everyday life when the Kanisan is not at hand as a guiding spirit, foretelling [189]lucky days and hours, casting horoscopes, explaining the cause of calamities, prescribing remedies for untoward events, and physicians (not physic) for sick persons. Seed cannot be sown, or trees planted, unless the Kanisan has been consulted beforehand. He is even asked to consult his shastras to find lucky days and moments for setting out on a journey, commencing an enterprise, giving a loan, executing a deed, or shaving the head. For such important occasions as births, marriages, tonsure, investiture with the sacred thread, and beginning the A, B, C, the Kanisan is of course indispensable. His work in short mixes him up with the gravest as well as the most trivial of the domestic events of the people, and his influence and position are correspondingly great. The astrologer’s finding, as one will solemnly assert with all due reverence, is the oracle of God himself, with the justice of which everyone ought to be satisfied, and the poorer classes follow his dictates unhesitatingly. There is no prescribed scale of fees for his services, and in this respect he is like the native physician and teacher. Those who consult him, however, rarely come empty-handed, and the gift is proportioned to the means of the party, and the time spent in serving him. If no fee is given, the Kanisan does not exact it, as it is one of his professional characteristics, and a matter of personal etiquette, that the astrologer should be unselfish, and not greedy of gain. On public occasions, however, and on important domestic events, a fixed scale of fees is usually adhered to. The astrologer’s most busy time is from January to July, the period of harvest and of marriages, but in the other six months of the year his is far from being an idle life. His most lucrative business lies in casting horoscopes, recording the events of a man’s life from birth to death, pointing [190]out dangerous periods of life, and prescribing rules and ceremonies to be observed by individuals for the purpose of propitiating the gods and planets, and so averting the calamities of dangerous times. He also shows favourable junctures for the commencement of undertakings, and the grantham or book, written on palmyra leaf, sets forth in considerable detail the person’s disposition and mental qualities, as affected by the position of the planets in the zodiac at the moment of birth. All this is a work of labour, and of time. There are few members of respectable families who are not thus provided, and nobody grudges the five to twenty-five rupees usually paid for a horoscope according to the position and reputation of the astrologer. Two things are essential to the astrologer, namely, a bag of cowry shells (Cypræa moneta), and an almanac. When any one comes to consult him, he quietly sits down, facing the sun, on a plank seat or mat, murmuring some mantrams or sacred verses, opens his bag of cowries, and pours them on the floor. With his right hand he moves them slowly round and round, solemnly reciting meanwhile a stanza or two in praise of his guru or teacher, and of his deity, invoking their help. He then stops, and explains what he has been doing, at the same time taking a handful of cowries from the heap, and placing them on one side. In front is a diagram drawn with chalk on the floor, and consisting of twelve compartments (rāsis) one for each month in the year. Before commencing operations with the diagram, he selects three or five of the cowries highest up in the heap, and places them in a line on the right-hand side. [In an account before me, three cowries and two glass bottle-stoppers are mentioned as being placed on this side.] These represent Ganapati (the belly god, the remover of difficulties), the sun, the planet Jupiter, [191]Sarasvati (the goddess of speech), and his own guru or preceptor. To all of these the astrologer gives due obeisance, touching his ears and the ground three times with both hands. The cowries are next arranged in the compartments of the diagram, and are moved about from compartment to compartment by the astrologer, who quotes meanwhile the authority on which he makes the moves. Finally he explains the result, and ends with again worshipping the deified cowries, who were witnessing the operation as spectators.” According to another account,95 the astrologer “pours his cowries on the ground, and, after rolling them in the palm of his right hand, while repeating mantrams (consecrated formulæ), he selects the largest, and places them in a row outside the diagram at its right hand top corner. They represent the first seven planets, and he does obeisance to them, touching his forehead and the ground three times with both hands. The relative position of the nine planets is then worked out, and illustrated with cowries in the diagram.”

The Kaniyans are essentially the guiding figures in all social and domestic matters for people in Travancore, and even Muslims and Christians benefit from their wisdom. From the moment an infant is born, which the Kaniyan notes to create its horoscope, to the moment of death, the services of the village astrologer are always in demand. He is regularly consulted about the causes of misfortunes, and the cautious answers he provides satisfy the people. "Putrō na putri," which can mean either no son but a daughter, or no daughter but a son, is jokingly referred to as the typical Kaniyan response when asked about the sex of a child in utero. “It would be difficult,” Mr. Logan writes, 94 “to describe a single important occasion in daily life when the Kanisan is not present as a guiding spirit, predicting [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]lucky days and times, casting horoscopes, explaining the causes of misfortunes, prescribing remedies for unfortunate events, and providing care for the sick. No one can plant seeds or trees without first consulting the Kanisan. He's even asked to look into his texts to find auspicious days for starting a journey, beginning a project, giving a loan, signing a document, or shaving one’s head. For significant events like births, marriages, tonsure, receiving the sacred thread, and starting education, the Kanisan is absolutely essential. His role intertwines with both the most serious and the most trivial domestic events of the community, and his influence and standing are correspondingly significant. The astrologer’s findings are considered, with utmost respect, to be the will of God, which everyone should accept, and the poorer classes strictly follow his guidance. There is no set fee schedule for his services, similar to that of local doctors and teachers. However, those who consult him rarely come empty-handed, and the gift correlates with the person's means and the time spent attending to them. If no payment is offered, the Kanisan does not demand it, as it’s part of his professional conduct and personal ethics to be selfless and not greedy. On public occasions and important household events, though, a standard fee is usually followed. The astrologer’s busiest period is from January to July, during the harvest and marriage season, but even in the other six months, his life is far from idle. His most profitable work involves casting horoscopes, documenting a person's life from birth to death, pointing [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]out risky life phases, and prescribing rules and rituals for individuals to appease the gods and planets, thus preventing misfortunes during perilous times. He also indicates favorable timing for the start of projects, while the grantham or book, written on palmyra leaves, details a person's traits and mental qualities as influenced by the planetary positions in the zodiac at the time of their birth. All of this requires significant effort and time. There are few respectable families who do not have such provisions, and no one resents paying the five to twenty-five rupees commonly charged for a horoscope, depending on the astrologer's reputation. Two items are crucial for the astrologer: a bag of cowry shells (Cypræa moneta) and an almanac. When someone seeks his advice, he quietly sits down facing the sun, on a wooden seat or mat, chants some mantras or sacred verses, opens his bag of cowries, and spreads them on the floor. With his right hand, he slowly rotates them while solemnly reciting verses in honor of his guru or teacher and his deity, invoking their assistance. He then pauses and explains what he’s doing, taking a handful of cowries from the pile and setting them aside. In front of him lies a chalk-drawn figure on the floor, divided into twelve sections (rāsis), one for each month of the year. Before starting with the figure, he picks three or five of the uppermost cowries from the pile and places them in a line on the right side. [In an account presented to me, three cowries and two glass bottle stoppers are noted as being placed on this side.] These represent Ganapati (the belly god, the remover of obstacles), the sun, the planet Jupiter, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Sarasvati (the goddess of speech), and his own guru or teacher. The astrologer pays respects to each, touching his ears and the ground three times with both hands. The cowries are then arranged within the sections of the figure, and the astrologer moves them from section to section while citing his authoritative sources for the moves. Finally, he interprets the outcome and finishes by again honoring the sacred cowries, who were present as spectators during the process.” According to another account, 95, the astrologer “pours his cowries on the ground, and, after rolling them in the palm of his right hand while reciting mantras (sacred formulas), he selects the largest and places them in a row outside the figure at its top right corner. These represent the first seven planets, and he bows to them, touching his forehead and the ground three times with both hands. He then calculates the relative positions of the nine planets, illustrating them with cowries in the figure.”

At the chal (furrow) ceremony in Malabar, on the eve of the new agricultural year, “every Hindu house in the district is visited by the Kanisans of the respective dēsams, who, for a modest present of rice, vegetables and oils, makes a forecast of the season’s prospects, which is engrossed on a cadjan (palm leaf). This is called the Vishu phalam, which is obtained by comparing the nativity with the equinox. Special mention is made therein as to the probable rainfall from the position of the planets—highly prized information in a district where there are no irrigation works or large reservoirs for water.”96 [192]

At the chal (furrow) ceremony in Malabar, on the eve of the new agricultural year, “every Hindu household in the district is visited by the Kanisans of the respective dēsams, who, for a small gift of rice, vegetables, and oils, make a prediction about the season’s outcomes, which is written on a cadjan (palm leaf). This is known as the Vishu phalam, which is created by comparing the natal chart with the equinox. It specifically notes the expected rainfall based on the positions of the planets—valuable information in an area where there are no irrigation systems or large water reservoirs.”96 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The science of astrology is studied and practiced by other castes, but the Kani house of Pazhūr is the most celebrated. Numerous stories are related of the astrological skill of the Pazhūr Kaniyans, of which one relates to the planets Mercury and Venus, who, arriving at the house of one of the Kaniyans, were asked by him to wait at the gate. He then jumped into a neighbouring well, to conduct some prayers with a view to keeping them there permanently. In this task he succeeded, and even today a prophecy made at that out-house is believed to be certain of turning out true.

The science of astrology is studied and practiced by various groups, but the Kani house of Pazhūr is the most well-known. There are many stories about the astrological expertise of the Pazhūr Kaniyans. One story involves the planets Mercury and Venus, who, upon arriving at the house of one of the Kaniyans, were asked to wait at the gate. He then jumped into a nearby well to perform some prayers aimed at keeping them there permanently. He succeeded in this task, and even today, a prophecy made at that out-house is believed to definitely come true.

In addition to astrology, the Kaniyans practice sorcery and exorcism, which are strictly the occupation of the Tīntā Kaniyans. The process by which devils are driven out is known as kōlamtullal (a peculiar dance). A troupe of Kaniyans, on being invited to a house where a person is suspected of being possessed by a devil, go there wearing masques representing Gandharva, Yakshi, Bhairava, Raktēsvari, and other demons, and dressed up in tender cocoanut leaves. Accompanied by music and songs, they rush towards the affected person, who is seated in the midst of the assembly, and frighten away the evil spirit. For the cure of disease, which is considered as incurable by ordinary methods of treatment, a form of exorcism called kālapāsamtikkuka, or the removal of the rope or evil influence, is resorted to. In this, two Kaniyans take the stage, and play the parts of Siva and Yama, while a third recites in song the story of the immortal Markandēya.

In addition to astrology, the Kaniyans practice sorcery and exorcism, which are solely the domain of the Tīntā Kaniyans. The process for driving out demons is called kōlamtullal (a unique dance). A group of Kaniyans, when invited to a home where someone is suspected of being possessed, arrive wearing masks of Gandharva, Yakshi, Bhairava, Raktēsvari, and other demons, and are dressed in fresh coconut leaves. Accompanied by music and songs, they rush toward the person affected, who sits in the middle of the gathering, to scare away the evil spirit. To treat diseases deemed incurable by standard methods, a type of exorcism called kālapāsamtikkuka, or the removal of the rope or evil influence, is performed. In this, two Kaniyans take the stage, playing the roles of Siva and Yama, while a third person sings the story of the immortal Markandēya.

“The Pannikar’s astrology,” Mr. F. Fawcett writes,97 “he will tell you, is divided into three parts:— [193]

“The Pannikar’s astrology,” Mr. F. Fawcett writes, 97 “is divided into three parts:— [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

(1) Ganīta, which treats of the constellations.

(1) Ganīta, which deals with the constellations.

(2) Sankīta, which explains the origin of the constellations, comets, falling stars, and earthquakes.

(2) Sankīta, which explains the origins of the constellations, comets, shooting stars, and earthquakes.

(3) Hōra, by which the fate of man is explained.

(3) Hōra, which explains a person's destiny.

“The Panikkar, who follows in the footsteps of his forefathers, should have a thorough knowledge of astrology and mathematics, and be learned in the Vēdas. He should be sound in mind and body, truthful, and patient. He should look well after his family, and should worship regularly the nine planets:—Sūryan, the sun; Chandran, moon; Chovva, Mars; Budhan, Mercury; Vyāzham, Guru, or Brihaspati, Jupiter; Sukran, Venus; Sani, Saturn; Rāhu; and Kētu. The two last, though not visible, are, oddly enough, classed as planets by the Panikkar. They are said to be two parts of an Āsura who was cut in two by Vishnu. The Panikkars also dabble in magic, and I have in my possession a number of yantrams presented to me by a Panikkar. They should be written on a thin gold, silver, or copper plate, and worn on the person. A yantram written on gold is the most effective. As a rule, the yantram is placed in a little cylinder-case made of silver, fastened to a string tied round the waist. Many of these are often worn by the same person. The yantram is sometimes written on cadjan (palm leaf), or paper. I have one of this kind in my collection, taken from the neck of a goat. It is common to see them worn on the arm, around the neck.”

“The Panikkar, who carries on the traditions of his ancestors, should have a solid understanding of astrology and mathematics, and be knowledgeable about the Vēdas. He should be healthy in mind and body, honest, and patient. He should take good care of his family and regularly worship the nine planets: Sūryan, the sun; Chandran, the moon; Chovva, Mars; Budhan, Mercury; Vyāzham, Guru or Brihaspati, Jupiter; Sukran, Venus; Sani, Saturn; Rāhu; and Kētu. The last two, although not visible, are strangely categorized as planets by the Panikkar. They are said to represent two halves of an Āsura who was split in two by Vishnu. The Panikkars also engage in magic, and I have several yantrams given to me by a Panikkar. These should be inscribed on thin gold, silver, or copper plates and worn on the body. A yantram made of gold is the most powerful. Typically, the yantram is placed inside a small silver cylinder-case attached to a string worn around the waist. Many of these are often worn by the same person. The yantram can also be written on cadjan (palm leaf) or paper. I have one of this type in my collection, taken from the neck of a goat. It’s common to see them worn on the arm or around the neck.”

The following examples of yantrams are given by Mr. Fawcett:—

The following examples of yantrams are provided by Mr. Fawcett:—

Aksharamāla.—Fifty-one letters. Used in connection with every other yantram. Each letter has its own meaning, and does not represent any word. In itself this yantram is powerless, but it gives life to all [194]others. It must be written on the same plate as the other yantram.

Aksharamāla.—Fifty-one letters. Used alongside every other yantram. Each letter has its own meaning and doesn’t stand for any word. By itself, this yantram is ineffective, but it brings life to all [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]others. It needs to be written on the same plate as the other yantram.

Sūlini.—For protection against sorcery or devils, and to secure the aid of the goddess.

Sūlini.—To protect against witchcraft or demons, and to ensure the goddess's support.

Māha Sūlini.—To prevent all kinds of harm through the devils, chief of whom is Pulatini, he who eats infants. Women wear it to avert miscarriage.

Māha Sūlini.—To prevent all kinds of harm from demons, primarily Pulatini, who consumes infants. Women use it to prevent miscarriage.

Ganapati.—To increase knowledge, and put away fear and shyness.

Ganapati.—To enhance knowledge and eliminate fear and shyness.

Sarasvati.—To enable its possessor to please his listeners, and increase his knowledge.

Sarasvati.—To help its owner impress their audience and enhance their knowledge.

Santāna gopalam.—As a whole it represents Srī Krishna. Used by barren women, so that they may bear children. It may be traced on a metal plate and worn in the usual way, or on a slab of butter, which is eaten. When the latter method is adopted, it is repeated on forty-one consecutive days, during which the woman, as well as the Panikkar, may not have sexual connection.

Santāna gopalam.—Overall, this represents Srī Krishna. It's used by women who can't have children, to help them conceive. It can be inscribed on a metal plate and worn traditionally, or on a piece of butter, which is then eaten. When the butter method is used, it is repeated for forty-one days in a row, during which the woman and the Panikkar must abstain from sexual relations.

Navva.—Drawn in ashes of cow-dung on a new cloth, and tied round the waist. It relieves a woman in labour.

Navva.—Made with ashes from cow dung on a new cloth, and wrapped around the waist. It helps a woman who is in labor.

Asvarūdha (to climb a horse).—A person wearing it is able to cover long distances easily on horseback, and he can make the most refractory horse amenable by tying it round its neck. It will also help to cure cattle.

Asvarūdha (to climb a horse).—A person wearing it can easily cover long distances on horseback, and they can make even the most stubborn horse manageable by tying it around its neck. It will also help in treating cattle.

“The charms,” Mr. Fawcett explains, “are entirely inoperative, unless accompanied in the first place with the mystic rite, which is the secret of the Panikkar.”

“The charms,” Mr. Fawcett explains, “don’t work at all unless they’re first used with the mystic rite, which is the secret of the Panikkar.”

Many Kaniyans used formerly to be village schoolmasters, but, with the abolition of the old methods of teaching, their number is steadily decreasing. Some of them are clever physicians. Those who have no pretension to learning live by making palm-leaf umbrellas, which gives occupation to the women. But the industry [195]is fast declining before the competition of umbrellas imported from foreign countries.

Many Kaniyans used to be village schoolmasters, but with the end of traditional teaching methods, their numbers are steadily declining. Some of them are skilled doctors. Those who don't claim to be educated make palm-leaf umbrellas, which provides work for women. However, this industry [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is quickly fading due to competition from umbrellas imported from other countries.

The Kaniyans worship the sun, the planets, the moon, Ganēsa and Subramanya, Vishnu, Siva, and Baghavati. On each day of the week, the planet, which is believed to preside over it, is specially worshipped by an elaborate process, which is compulsorily gone through for at least three weeks after a Kaniyan has become proficient in astrology, and able to make calculations for himself.

The Kaniyans worship the sun, the planets, the moon, Ganēsa, Subramanya, Vishnu, Siva, and Baghavati. Each day of the week, the planet that's thought to rule that day is honored with a detailed ritual, which must be performed for at least three weeks after a Kaniyan becomes skilled in astrology and can do calculations independently.

It is generally believed that the supreme authority in all social matters affecting the Kaniyan rests in British Malabar with the Yōgi already referred to, in Cochin and North Travancore with the head of the Pazhūr house, and in South Travancore with the eldest member of a house at Manakkad in Trivandrum, known by the name of Sankili. Practically, however, the spiritual headmen, called Kannālmas, are independent. These Kannālmas are much respected, and well paid on festive occasions by every Kaniyan house. They and other elders sit in judgment on persons guilty of adultery, commensality with lower castes, and other offences, and inflict punishments.

It is commonly accepted that the ultimate authority on all social issues concerning the Kaniyan is located in British Malabar with the Yōgi mentioned earlier, in Cochin and North Travancore with the leader of the Pazhūr house, and in South Travancore with the oldest member of a family in Manakkad, Trivandrum, known as Sankili. However, in practice, the spiritual leaders, known as Kannālmas, are independent. These Kannālmas are greatly respected and receive good compensation during festivals from every Kaniyan household. They, along with other elders, pass judgment on individuals who commit adultery, dine with lower castes, and other offenses, and they impose penalties.

The Kaniyans observe both the tāli-kettu ceremony before puberty, and sambandham after that event. Inheritance is through the father, and the eldest male of a family has the management of the ancestral estate. Fraternal polyandry is said to have been common in olden times, and Mr. Logan observes that, “like the Pāndava brothers, as they proudly point out, the Kanisans used formerly to have one wife in common among several brothers, and this custom is still observed by some of them.” There is no restriction to the marriage of widows. [196]

The Kaniyans participate in the tāli-kettu ceremony before puberty and sambandham afterward. Inheritance comes from the father, and the oldest male in a family manages the ancestral estate. Fraternal polyandry was reportedly common in the past, and Mr. Logan notes that, “like the Pāndava brothers, as they proudly state, the Kanisans used to share one wife among several brothers, and this practice is still followed by some of them.” There are no restrictions on the marriage of widows. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Concerning polyandry, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer states that “among the Kaniyans, as well as among Panikkans, polyandry largely prevails. If the young woman is intended to be the wife of several brothers, the eldest brother goes to the bride’s house, and gives her the cloth, and takes her home the next day along with her parents and relations, who are all well entertained. The young woman and the brothers are seated together, and a sweet preparation is given to them, which signifies that she has become the common wife of all. The Kalari Mūppan (Nāyar headman of the village) also declares her to be such. The guests depart, and the bridegroom (the eldest brother) and the bride are invited to what they call virunnu-oon (sumptuous meal) in the house of the latter, where they stay for a few days. The bridegroom then returns home with the wife. The other brothers, one after another, are similarly entertained along with the bride at her house. The brothers cannot afford to live together for a long time, and they go from place to place, earning their livelihood by astrology. Each brother is at home only for a few days in each month; hence practically the woman has only one husband at a time. If several of them happen to be at home together for a few weeks, each in turn associates with the woman, in accordance with the directions given by their mother.”

Concerning polyandry, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer mentions that “among the Kaniyans and the Panikkans, polyandry is quite common. If a young woman is set to marry several brothers, the eldest brother visits her home, gives her a cloth, and takes her back the next day along with her parents and relatives, who are all well treated. The young woman and the brothers sit together, and they are given a sweet dish, symbolizing that she has become the shared wife of all. The Kalari Mūppan (the village headman from the Nāyar community) also recognizes this. Afterward, the guests leave, and the bridegroom (the eldest brother) and the bride are invited to what they call virunnu-oon (a lavish meal) at her home, where they stay for a few days. Then the bridegroom returns home with his wife. The other brothers are similarly entertained with the bride at her place one by one. The brothers can’t live together for long and move around, making a living through astrology. Each brother is home only a few days each month; thus, practically, the woman has only one husband at a time. If several brothers are home together for a few weeks, they each spend time with the woman, following the guidance given by their mother.”

The Kaniyans follow high-caste Hindus as regards many of their ceremonies. They have their name-bestowing, food-giving and tuft-making ceremonies, and also a superstitious rite called ittaluzhiyuka, or exorcism in child-birth on the seventh or ninth day after the birth of a child. A Kaniyan’s education begins in his seventh year. In the sixteenth year a ceremony, corresponding to the upanayana of the higher castes, is performed. [197]For forty-one days after, the Kannālma initiates the young Kaniyan into the mysteries of astrology and witchcraft. He is obliged to worship Subramanya, the tutelary god of the caste, and abstains from meat and liquor. This may be taken as the close of his Brahmacharya stage or Samāvartana, as marriage cannot take place before the observance of this ceremony.

The Kaniyans follow high-caste Hindus in many of their ceremonies. They have naming, food-giving, and tuft-making ceremonies, as well as a superstitious ritual called ittaluzhiyuka, or exorcism during childbirth, which takes place on the seventh or ninth day after a child is born. A Kaniyan’s education starts in his seventh year. In his sixteenth year, a ceremony similar to the upanayana of the higher castes is performed. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]For forty-one days afterward, the Kannālma teaches the young Kaniyan the secrets of astrology and witchcraft. He is required to worship Subramanya, the patron god of the caste, and to avoid meat and alcohol. This marks the end of his Brahmacharya stage or Samāvartana, as marriage cannot occur before this ceremony is observed.

On the subject of religion, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes that “the Kalari Panikkans and the Kaniyans are generally Saivite worshippers, but are not disinclined to the worship of Vishnu also. It is said that their kalaris are forty-two feet long, and contain the images of forty-two deities. The following are the most important of them:—Subrahmanya, Sastha, Ganapati, Vīrabhadran, Narasimha, Ashtabairavas, Hanumān, and Bhadrakāli. Some of their kalaris, which were seen by me, contained stone and metal images of these gods. Every night a lamp is lighted in front of them for their worship. During the Mandalam (forty days) from the first of Vrischikam to the tenth of Dhanu (14th November to 25th December), the senior member of the Panikkan’s family bathes early in the morning, and performs his pūjas to all the gods, making offerings of boiled rice, plantains and cocoanuts. On the fortieth day, i.e., the last day of the Mandalam, a grand pūja is performed individually to every one of the deities in the kalari, and this lasts for twenty-four hours, from sunrise to sunrise, when offerings of boiled rice, parched rice, sheep and fowls are also given. This is the grand pūja performed once in the course of the year. Besides this, some of their deities command their special reverence. For instance, Subrahmanya is adored for the sake of astrology, Sastha for wealth and offspring. They are also worshippers of Sakti in any of her following [198]manifestations, namely, Bala, Thripura, Mathangi, Ambika, Durga, Bhadrakāli, the object of which is to secure accuracy in their astrological predictions. Further, every member of the caste proficient in astrology daily offers, after an early bath, his prayers to the seven planets. Among the minor deities whom they worship, are also Mallan, Mundian, Muni and Ayutha Vadukan, the first three of which they worship for the prosperity of their cattle, and the last four for their success in the training of young men in athletic feats. These deities are represented by stones placed at the root of some shady tree in their compounds. They also worship the spirits of their ancestors, on the new-moon nights in Karkadakam (July-August), Thulam (October-November), and Makaram (December-January). The Kalari Panikkans celebrate a kind of feast to the spirits of their female ancestors. This is generally done a few days before the celebration of a wedding in their houses, and is probably intended to obtain their blessings for the happy married life of the bride. This corresponds to the performance of Sumangalia Prarthana (feast for the spirits of departed virgins and married women) performed by Brāhmans in their families. At times when small-pox, cholera, and other pestilential diseases prevail in a village, special pūjas are offered to Māriamma (the small-pox demon) and Bhadrakāli, who should be propitiated. On these occasions, their priest turns Velichapād (oracle), and speaks to the village men as if by inspiration, telling them when and how the maladies will subside.”

On the topic of religion, Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer notes that “the Kalari Panikkans and the Kaniyans mostly worship Shiva, but they also have respect for Vishnu. It’s said their kalaris are forty-two feet long and house the images of forty-two gods. The key deities include Subrahmanya, Sastha, Ganapati, Vīrabhadran, Narasimha, Ashtabairavas, Hanumān, and Bhadrakāli. Some of the kalaris I visited had stone and metal images of these gods. Each night, a lamp is lit in front of them for worship. During the Mandalam (forty days) from the first of Vrischikam to the tenth of Dhanu (November 14 to December 25), the senior member of the Panikkan family bathes early each morning and performs pūjas for all the deities, offering boiled rice, bananas, and coconuts. On the fortieth day, the last day of the Mandalam, a grand pūja is conducted individually for each deity in the kalari, lasting twenty-four hours from sunrise to sunrise, with offerings of boiled rice, parched rice, sheep, and poultry. This is the main pūja held once a year. Additionally, some deities are held in special regard. For example, Subrahmanya is worshipped for astrology, and Sastha for wealth and children. They also honor Goddess Sakti in any of her forms, including Bala, Thripura, Mathangi, Ambika, Durga, and Bhadrakāli, aiming to improve their astrological predictions. Furthermore, every member of the caste skilled in astrology offers prayers to the seven planets each day after an early bath. Among the minor deities they honor are Mallan, Mundian, Muni, and Ayutha Vadukan, the first three for the prosperity of their cattle, and the last four for success in training young men in sports. These deities are represented by stones placed at the base of shady trees in their yards. They also honor the spirits of their ancestors on new-moon nights in Karkadakam (July-August), Thulam (October-November), and Makaram (December-January). The Kalari Panikkans host a feast for the spirits of their female ancestors, typically a few days before a wedding, likely to seek their blessings for a happy marriage for the bride. This corresponds to the Sumangalia Prarthana (feast for the spirits of departed virgins and married women) conducted by Brahmins in their families. When diseases like smallpox or cholera break out in a village, special pūjas are offered to Māriamma (the small-pox deity) and Bhadrakāli, who need to be appeased. During these times, their priest acts as a Velichapād (oracle) and speaks to the villagers as if inspired, telling them when and how the diseases will ease.”

Kaniyans were formerly buried, but are now, excepting young children, cremated in a portion of the grounds of the habitation, or in a spot adjacent thereto. The ashes are collected on the fourth day, and deposited under water. In memory of the deceased, an annual offering [199]of food is made, and an oblation of water offered on every new moon.

Kaniyans used to be buried, but now, except for young children, they are cremated in part of the living area or in a nearby location. The ashes are gathered on the fourth day and scattered in water. In memory of the deceased, an annual offering of food is made, and water is offered every new moon. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Potuvans or Kani Kuruppus are the barbers of the Kaniyans, and have the privilege of being in attendance during marriages and funerals. It is only after they have sprinkled water in the houses of polluted Kaniyans that they again become pure. In fact, the Potuvans stand in the same relation to the Kaniyans as the Mārāns to the Nāyars. The Potuvans are not expected to shave the Tīntā Kaniyans.

The Potuvans or Kani Kuruppus are the barbers of the Kaniyans and have the special role of being present at weddings and funerals. They can only become pure again after they have sprinkled water in the homes of the contaminated Kaniyans. Essentially, the Potuvans have a similar relationship with the Kaniyans as the Mārāns do with the Nāyars. The Potuvans are not required to shave the Tīntā Kaniyans.

The Kaniyans are said to keep at a distance of twenty-four feet from a Brāhman or Kshatriya, and half that distance from a Sūdra. The corresponding distances for a Tīntā Kaniyan are thirty-six and eighteen feet. This restriction is not fully observed in Trivandrum, and south of it. It is noted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer that, on marriage occasions, a Nāyar gives a gift of a few annas and betel leaves to the astrologer, standing close beside him, and yet there is no pollution. The Malayālam proverb “On marriage occasions the Nāyars give dakshina (gift), almost touching the hand,” refers to this fact. The Kaniyans cannot enter Brāhmanical temples. They will not receive food from Izhavans, except in a few villages in central Travancore, but this is a regular practice with the Tīntā Kaniyans. It is believed that the Kaniyans proper have no objection to receiving sweetmeats from Kammālans.

The Kaniyans are said to keep a distance of twenty-four feet from a Brahmin or Kshatriya, and half that distance from a Sudra. For a Tīntā Kaniyan, the distances are thirty-six and eighteen feet. This rule isn't strictly followed in Trivandrum and areas south of it. Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer remarks that during wedding events, a Nāyar gives a small amount of money and betel leaves to the astrologer while standing right next to him, and there's no sense of pollution. The Malayalam saying “On marriage occasions the Nāyars give dakshina (gift), almost touching the hand,” highlights this. The Kaniyans are not allowed to enter Brahminical temples. They typically won't accept food from Izhavans, except in a few villages in central Travancore, but this is a common practice for the Tīntā Kaniyans. It's believed that the Kaniyans themselves have no issues accepting sweets from Kammālans.

The Kaniyans have been summed up as a law-abiding people, who not infrequently add agriculture to their avocations of village doctor, prophet, or demon-driver, and are popular with Christians and Muhammadans as well as with Hindus.98 [200]

The Kaniyans are known to be a law-abiding community who often engage in agriculture alongside their roles as village doctors, prophets, or exorcists, and they are well-liked by Christians, Muslims, and Hindus alike.98 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The late Mr. Pogson, when Government astronomer, used to say that his principal native assistant was an astronomer from 10 A.M. to 5 P.M. and an astrologer from 5 P.M. to 10 A.M.

The late Mr. Pogson, when he was the government astronomer, used to say that his main local assistant was an astronomer from 10 AM to 5 PM and an astrologer from 5 P.M. to 10 AM

Kannada.—Kannada (Kanarese) has, at recent times of census, been returned as a linguistic or territorial division of various classes, e.g., Agasa, Bēdar, Dēvānga, Holeya, Koracha, Kumbāra, Sāmagāra, Rāchewar, and Uppiliyan.

Kannada.—Recently, Kannada (Kanarese) has been categorized as a linguistic or territorial division in various classifications, e.g., Agasa, Bēdar, Dēvānga, Holeya, Koracha, Kumbāra, Sāmagāra, Rāchewar, and Uppiliyan.

Kanna Pulayan.—Described by the Rev. W. J. Richards99 as Pulayans of Travancore, who wear rather better and more artistically made aprons than the Thanda Pulayan women.

Kanna Pulayan.—Described by Rev. W. J. Richards99 as the Pulayans of Travancore, who wear nicer and more creatively made aprons than the Thanda Pulayan women.

Kannaku.—A prefix to the name of Nanchinat Vellālas in Travancore.

Kannaku.—A prefix used for the name of Nanchinat Vellālas in Travancore.

Kannān.—A sub-division of Kammālans, the members of which do braziers’ work.

Kannān.—A sub-group of Kammālans whose members work as braziers.

Kannadiyan.—The Kannadiyans have been summed up100 as “immigrants from the province of Mysore. Their traditional occupation is said to have been military service, although they follow, at the present day, different pursuits in different districts. They are usually cattle-breeders and cultivators in North and South Arcot and Chingleput, and traders in the southern districts. Most of them are Lingāyats, but a few are Vaishnavites.” “They are,” it is stated,101 “in the Mysore State known as Gaulis. At their weddings, five married women are selected, who are required to bathe as each of the most important of the marriage ceremonies is performed, and are alone allowed to cook for, or to touch the happy couple. Weddings last eight days, during which time the bride and bridegroom must not sit on anything but [201]woollen blankets.” Some Kannadiyans in the Tanjore district are said to be weavers. For the following account of the Kannadiyans of the Chingleput district I am indebted to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao.

Kannadiyan.—The Kannadiyans have been described as “immigrants from the province of Mysore. Their traditional occupation was military service, although today they engage in various professions across different regions. They are typically cattle-breeders and farmers in North and South Arcot and Chingleput, while they are traders in the southern districts. Most of them are Lingāyats, but a few are Vaishnavites.” “In Mysore State, they are referred to as Gaulis. During their weddings, five married women are chosen, and they must bathe as each key wedding ceremony takes place. These women are the only ones allowed to cook for or touch the newlyweds. Weddings last eight days, during which the bride and groom must only sit on [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]woollen blankets.” Some Kannadiyans in the Tanjore district are reported to be weavers. I am grateful to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao for the following account of the Kannadiyans in the Chingleput district.

About twenty miles from the city of Madras is a big tank (lake) named after the village of Chembrambākam, which is close by. The fertile land surrounding this tank is occupied, among others, by a colony of Lingāyats, of whom each household, as a rule, owns several acres of land. With the cultivation thereof, they have the further occupation of cattle grazing. They utilize the products of the cow in various ways, and it supplies them with milk, butter and curds, in the last two of which they carry on a lucrative trade in the city of Madras. The curds sold by them are very highly appreciated by Madras Brāhmans, as they have a sour taste caused by keeping them till fermentation has set in. So great is the demand for their curds that advances of money are made to them, and regular delivery is thus secured. Their price is higher than that of the local Madras curds, and if a Lingāyat buys the latter and sells them at the higher rate, he is decisively stigmatised as being a “local.” They will not even touch sheep and goats, and believe that even the smell of these animals will make cows and buffaloes barren.

About twenty miles from the city of Madras is a large lake called Chembrambākam, named after the nearby village. The fertile land around this lake is home to a colony of Lingāyats, where each household typically owns several acres of land. In addition to farming, they also raise cattle. They use various products from the cows, which provide them with milk, butter, and curds, with the last two items being sold profitably in Madras. The curds they sell are particularly valued by Madras Brāhmans for their sour taste, which comes from fermentation. The demand for their curds is so high that they receive cash advances, ensuring regular delivery. Their curds are priced higher than local Madras curds, and if a Lingāyat buys the local curds and sells them at a higher price, they are looked down upon as a “local.” They refuse to touch sheep and goats, believing that even the smell of these animals can make cows and buffaloes infertile.

Though the chief settlement of the Lingāyats is at Chembrambākam, they are also to be found in the adjacent villages and in the Conjeeveram tāluk, and, in all, they number, in the Chingleput district, about four thousand.

Though the main settlement of the Lingāyats is at Chembrambākam, they can also be found in nearby villages and in the Conjeeveram tāluk, totaling about four thousand in the Chingleput district.

The Lingāyats have no idea how their forefathers came to the Chingleput district. Questioned whether they have any relatives in Mysore, many answered in the affirmative, and one even pointed to one in a high [202]official position as a close relation. Another said that the Gurukkal or Jangam (priest) is one and the same man for the Mysore Lingāyats and themselves. A third told me of his grandfather’s wanderings in Mysore, Bellary, and other places of importance to the Lingāyats. I have also heard the story that, on the Chembrambākam Lingāyats being divided into two factions through disputes among the local caste-men, a Lingāyat priest came from Mysore, and brought about their union. These few facts suffice to show that the Lingāyats are emigrants from Mysore, and not converts from the indigenous populations of the district. But what as to the date of their immigration? The earliest date which can, with any show of reason, be ascribed thereto seems to be towards the end of the seventeenth century, when Chikka Dēva Rāja ruled over Mysore. He adopted violent repressive measures against the Lingāyats for quelling a widespread insurrection, which they had fomented against him throughout the State. His measures of financial reform deprived the Lingāyat priesthood of its local leadership and much of its pecuniary profit. What followed may best be stated in the words of Colonel Wilks,102 the Mysore historian. “Everywhere the inverted plough, suspended from the tree at the gate of the village, whose shade forms a place of assembly for its inhabitants, announced a state of insurrection. Having determined not to till the land, the husbandmen deserted their villages, and assembled in some places like fugitives seeking a distant settlement; in others as rebels breathing revenge. Chikka Dēva Rāja, however, was too prompt in his measures to admit of any very formidable combination. Before [203]proceeding to measures of open violence, he adopted a plan of perfidy and horror, yielding to nothing which we find recorded in the annals of the most sanguinary people. An invitation was sent to all the Jangam priests to meet the Rāja at the great temple of Nunjengōd, ostensibly to converse with him on the subject of the refractory conduct of their followers. Treachery was apprehended, and the number which assembled was estimated at about four hundred only. A large pit had been previously prepared in a walled enclosure, connected by a series of squares composed of tent walls with the canopy of audience, at which they were received one at a time, and, after making their obeisance, were desired to retire to a place where, according to custom, they expected to find refreshments prepared at the expense of the Rāja. Expert executioners were in waiting in the square, and every individual in succession was so skilfully beheaded and tumbled into the pit as to give no alarm to those who followed, and the business of the public audience went on without interruption or suspicion. Circular orders had been sent for the destruction on the same day of all the Jangam Mutts (places of residence and worship) in his dominions, and the number reported to have been destroyed was upwards of seven hundred.... This notable achievement was followed by the operations of the troops, chiefly cavalry. The orders were distinct and simple—to charge without parley into the midst of the mob; to cut down every man wearing an orange-coloured robe (the peculiar garb of the Jangam priests).”

The Lingāyats have no idea how their ancestors arrived in the Chingleput district. When asked if they have any relatives in Mysore, many responded yes, and one even pointed to a close relative who holds a high [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]official position. Another mentioned that the Gurukkal or Jangam (priest) is essentially the same person for the Mysore Lingāyats and themselves. A third individual told me about his grandfather's travels in Mysore, Bellary, and other significant locations for the Lingāyats. I've also heard that when the Chembrambākam Lingāyats split into two factions due to disputes among local caste members, a Lingāyat priest came from Mysore to reunite them. These few details are enough to suggest that the Lingāyats are immigrants from Mysore and not converts from the local indigenous populations. But what about the date of their arrival? The earliest date that can reasonably be assigned seems to be the late seventeenth century, during the rule of Chikka Dēva Rāja in Mysore. He implemented harsh measures against the Lingāyats to suppress a widespread insurrection that they had incited throughout the State. His financial reforms stripped the Lingāyat priesthood of local leadership and a significant portion of its income. What happened next is best described in the words of Colonel Wilks,102 the Mysore historian. “Everywhere the inverted plow, hanging from the tree at the village gate, where its shade served as a meeting place for the locals, signaled a state of insurrection. Determined not to farm the land, the farmers abandoned their villages and gathered in some places like fugitives seeking a distant settlement; in other places, they gathered as rebels seeking revenge. However, Chikka Dēva Rāja acted swiftly enough to prevent any significant organization. Before going for open violence, he adopted a method of betrayal and horror that outstripped anything recorded in the histories of the most bloodthirsty people. An invitation was sent to all Jangam priests to meet the Rāja at the grand temple of Nunjengōd, supposedly to discuss the unruly behavior of their followers. Fearing treachery, only about four hundred showed up. A large pit had been prepared in a walled area, connected by a series of tent walls to the audience area, where they were received individually. After paying their respects, they were asked to go to a place where, according to tradition, they expected to find refreshments provided by the Rāja. Skilled executioners were waiting in the area, and each person was expertly beheaded and dropped into the pit without alerting those who followed, allowing the proceedings to continue without interruption or suspicion. Orders had been sent out for the destruction of all Jangam Mutts (places of residence and worship) in his territories on the same day, and the reported number of those destroyed was over seven hundred.... This significant act was followed by troop movements, primarily cavalry. The orders were clear and straightforward—charge into the crowd without hesitation; cut down every man wearing an orange robe (the distinctive attire of the Jangam priests).”

How far the husbandmen carried out their threat of seeking a distant settlement it is impossible, at this distance of time, to determine. If the theory of religious [204]persecution as the cause of their emigration has not an air of certainty about it, it is at least plausible.

How far the farmers went in making good on their threat to find a distant settlement is hard to figure out from this far away in time. While the idea that religious [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]persecution caused their emigration may not seem completely certain, it is at least reasonable.

If the beginning of the eighteenth century is the earliest, the end of that century is the latest date that can be set down for the Lingāyat emigration. That century was perhaps the most troublous one in the modern history of India. Armies were passing and repassing the ghāts, and I have heard from some old gentlemen that the Chingleput Lingāyats, who are mostly shepherds, accompanied the troops in the humble capacity of purveyors of milk and butter.

If the early part of the eighteenth century marks the beginning, the end of that century is the latest point recorded for the Lingāyat migration. That century was arguably the most turbulent in modern Indian history. Armies were constantly moving over the mountains, and I've heard from some older gentlemen that the Chingleput Lingāyats, who are mainly shepherds, traveled with the troops as suppliers of milk and butter.

Whatever the causes of their emigration, we find them in the Chingleput district ordinarily reckoning the Mysore, Salem and Bellary Lingāyats as of their own stock. They freely mix with each other, and I hear contract marital alliances with one another. They speak the Kannada (Kanarese) language—the language of Mysore and Bellary. They call themselves by the name of Kannadiyans or Kannadiyars, after the language they speak, and the part of the village they inhabit—Kannadipauliem, or village of the Kannadiyars. In parts of Madras they are known as Kavadi and Kavadiga (=bearers of head-loads).

Whatever the reasons for their emigration, we find that in the Chingleput district, they usually consider the Mysore, Salem, and Bellary Lingāyats to be part of their own community. They freely interact with one another, and I hear that they form marital alliances among themselves. They speak Kannada (Kanarese), the language of Mysore and Bellary. They refer to themselves as Kannadiyans or Kannadiyars, based on the language they speak and the area of the village they live in—Kannadipauliem, or village of the Kannadiyars. In some parts of Madras, they are known as Kavadi and Kavadiga (meaning bearers of head-loads).

Both men and women are possessed of great stamina. Almost every other day they walk to and fro, in all seasons, more than twenty miles by road to sell their butter and curds in Madras. While so journeying, they carry on their heads a curd pot in a rattan basket containing three or four Madras measures of curds, besides another pot containing a measure or so of butter. Some of the men are good acrobats and gymnasts, and I have seen a very old man successively break in two four cocoanuts, each placed on three or four crystals of common salt, leaving the crystals almost [205]intact. And I have heard that there are men who can so break fifty cocoanuts—perhaps an exaggeration for a considerable number. In general the women may be termed beautiful, and, in Mysore, the Lingāyat women are, by common consent, regarded as models of feminine beauty.

Both men and women have great stamina. Almost every other day, they walk back and forth, in all seasons, more than twenty miles along the road to sell their butter and curds in Madras. During this journey, they carry a pot of curd in a rattan basket on their heads, containing three or four Madras measures of curds, along with another pot that holds a measure or so of butter. Some of the men are skilled acrobats and gymnasts, and I've seen a very old man break four coconuts in half one after the other, each placed on three or four grains of common salt, leaving the salt grains almost [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]intact. I've also heard that there are men who can break fifty coconuts—though that might be an exaggeration for a large number. Generally, the women can be described as beautiful, and in Mysore, the Lingāyat women are commonly regarded as the standard of feminine beauty.

These Lingāyats are divided into two classes, viz., Gauliyars of Dāmara village, and Kadapēri or Kannadiyars proper, of Chembrambākam and other places. The Gauliyars carry their curd pots in rattan baskets; the Kannadiyars in bamboo baskets. Each class has its own beat in the city of Madras, and, while the majority of the rattan basket men traffic mainly in Triplicane, the bamboo basket men carry on their business in Georgetown and other localities. The two classes worship the same gods, feed together, but do not intermarry. The rattan is considered superior to the bamboo section. Both sections are sub-divided into a large number of exogamous septs or bēdagagulu, of which the meaning, with a few exceptions, e.g., split cane, bear, and fruit of Eugenia Jambolana, is not clear.

These Lingāyats are divided into two groups: the Gauliyars from Dāmara village and the Kadapēri or Kannadiyars from Chembrambākam and other areas. The Gauliyars carry their curd pots in rattan baskets, while the Kannadiyars use bamboo baskets. Each group has its own area in the city of Madras; most of the rattan basket carriers mainly operate in Triplicane, while the bamboo basket carriers conduct business in Georgetown and other neighborhoods. Both groups worship the same gods, eat together, but do not intermarry. The rattan group is considered to be of higher status than the bamboo group. Both groups are further divided into numerous exogamous septs or bēdagagulu, although the meanings of these terms, with a few exceptions, such as split cane, bear, and the fruit of Eugenia Jambolana, are not clear.

Monogamy appears to be the general rule among them, but polygamy to the extent of having two wives, the second to counteract the sterility of the first, is not rare. Marriage before puberty is the rule, which must not be transgressed. And it is a common thing to see small boys grazing the cattle, who are married to babies hardly more than a year old. Marriages are arranged by the parents, or through intermediaries, with the tacit approval of the community as a whole. The marriage ceremony generally lasts about nine or ten days, and, to lessen the expenses for the individual, several families club together and celebrate their marriages simultaneously. All the preliminaries such as inviting the [206]wedding guests, etc., are attended to by the agent of the community, who is called Chaudri. The appointment of agent is hereditary.

Monogamy seems to be the common practice among them, but it's not unusual for someone to have two wives, with the second one brought in due to the first's inability to have children. Getting married before puberty is the norm, and it’s strictly followed. It’s quite usual to see young boys herding cattle who are married to girls barely a year old. Marriages are arranged by the parents or through intermediaries, with the community’s silent approval. The wedding ceremony usually lasts about nine or ten days, and to cut down on individual costs, several families often come together to celebrate their weddings at the same time. All the preparations like inviting the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] wedding guests are handled by the community’s representative, known as the Chaudri. This role is passed down through families.

The first day of the marriage ceremony is employed in the erection of the booth or pandal. On the following day, the bodice-wearing ceremony is performed. The bride and bridegroom are presented with new clothes, which they put on amid general merriment. In connection with this ceremony, the following Mysore story may not be out of place. When Tipu Sultan once saw a Lingāyat woman selling curds in the street without a body cloth, he ordered the cutting off of her breasts. Since then the wearing of long garments has come into use among the whole female population of Mysore.

The first day of the wedding ceremony is dedicated to setting up the booth or pandal. The next day, the ceremony for wearing the bodice takes place. The bride and groom receive new clothes, which they put on while everyone celebrates. In relation to this ceremony, the following story from Mysore might be relevant. When Tipu Sultan once saw a Lingāyat woman selling curds in the street without a body cloth, he ordered her breasts to be cut off. Since then, long garments have been adopted by all the women in Mysore.

The third day is the most important, as it is on that day that the Muhūrtham, or tāli-tying ceremony, takes place, and an incident of quite an exceptional character comes off amid general laughter. A Brāhman (generally a Saivite) is formally invited to attend, and pretends that he is unable to do so. But he is, with mock gravity, pressed hard to do so, and, after repeated guarantees of good faith, he finally consents with great reluctance and misgivings. On his arrival at the marriage booth, the headman of the family in which the marriage is taking place seizes him roughly by the head, and ties as tightly as possible five cocoanuts to the kudumi, or lock of hair at the back of the head, amidst the loud, though not real, protestations of the victim. All those present, with all seriousness, pacify him, and he is cheered by the sight of five rupees, which are presented to him. This gift he readily accepts, together with a pair of new cloths and pān-supāri (betel leaves and areca nuts). Meanwhile the young folk have been making sport of him by throwing at his new and old clothes big empty [207]brinjal fruits (Solanum Melongena) filled with turmeric powder and chunām (lime). He goes for the boys, who dodge him, and at last the elders beat off the youngsters with the remark that “after all he is a Brāhman, and ought not to be trifled with in this way.” The Brāhman then takes leave, and is heard of no more in connection with the wedding rites. The whole ceremony has a decided ring of mockery about it, and leads one to the conclusion that it is celebrated more in derision than in honour of the Brāhmans. It is a notorious fact that the Lingāyats will not even accept water from a Brāhman’s hands, and do not, like many other castes, require his services in connection with marriage or funeral ceremonies. The practice of tying cocoanuts to the hair of the Brāhman seems to be confined to the bamboo section. But an equally curious custom is observed by the rattan section. The village barber is invited to the wedding, and the infant bride and bridegroom are seated naked before him. He is provided with some ghī(clarified butter) in a cocoanut shell, and has to sprinkle some of it on the head of the couple with a grass or reed. He is, however, prevented from doing so by a somewhat cruel contrivance. A big stone (representing the linga) is suspended from his neck by a rope, and he is kept nodding to and fro by another rope which is pulled by young lads behind him. Eventually they leave off, and he sprinkles the ghī, and is dismissed with a few annas, pān-supāri, and the remains of the ghī. By means of the stone the barber is for the moment turned into a Lingāyat.

The third day is the most important because it’s when the Muhūrtham, or tāli-tying ceremony, happens, and a rather unusual incident takes place amid general laughter. A Brahmin (usually a Saivite) is formally invited to join in but pretends he can't make it. However, he is jokingly pressured to come, and after several assurances of good faith, he reluctantly agrees, feeling quite uncertain. When he arrives at the wedding booth, the head of the family grabs him firmly by the head and knots five coconuts as tightly as possible to the back of his hair, despite his loud, but not genuine, protests. Everyone present, with all seriousness, reassures him, and he feels better when he sees a five-rupee note that is given to him. He gladly accepts this gift, along with a new set of clothes and pān-supāri (betel leaves and areca nuts). Meanwhile, the young people are teasing him by throwing big empty brinjal fruits (Solanum Melongena) filled with turmeric powder and lime at his new and old clothes. He tries to chase the kids, but they dodge him, and eventually, the elders scold the youngsters, saying, “After all, he is a Brahmin and shouldn’t be treated this way.” The Brahmin then takes his leave and is not heard from again in connection with the wedding. The whole ceremony has a clear element of mockery, suggesting that it’s celebrated more in jest than in respect for the Brahmins. It’s well-known that Lingayats won’t even accept water from a Brahmin's hands and don’t need his services for marriage or funeral ceremonies like many other castes do. The practice of tying coconuts to the Brahmin's hair seems to be specific to the bamboo group. But there’s also a curious custom in the rattan group. The village barber is invited to the wedding, and the child bride and groom sit naked in front of him. He’s given some clarified butter in a coconut shell and has to sprinkle some on the couple’s heads with a piece of grass or reed. However, he’s kept from doing so by a rather cruel setup. A large stone (representing the linga) is tied around his neck with a rope, and young boys behind him pull on another rope, making him nod back and forth. Eventually, they stop pulling, and he sprinkles the clarified butter before being sent off with a few coins, pān-supāri, and what’s left of the butter. The stone momentarily turns the barber into a Lingayat.

The officiating priest at the marriage ceremony is a man of their own sect, and is known as the Gurukkal. They address him as Ayyanavaru, a title generally reserved for Brāhmans in Kannada-speaking districts. [208]The main items of expenditure at a wedding are the musician, presents of clothes, and pān-supāri, especially the areca nuts. One man, who was not rich, told me that it cost him, for a marriage, three maunds of nuts, and that guests come more for them than for the meals, which he characterised as not fit for dogs.

The officiating priest at the wedding ceremony is a man from their own sect, known as the Gurukkal. They refer to him as Ayyanavaru, a title typically reserved for Brāhmans in Kannada-speaking areas. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]The main expenses at a wedding are the musician, gifts of clothing, and pān-supāri, especially the areca nuts. One man, who wasn’t wealthy, told me that his wedding cost three maunds of nuts, and that guests came more for them than for the food, which he described as unfit for dogs.

Kannadiyan.

Kannadiyan.

Kannadiyan.

Widow remarriage is permitted. But it is essential that the contracting parties should be widower and widow. For such a marriage no pandal is erected, but all the elders countenance it by their presence. Such a marriage is known as naduvīttu tāli, because the tāli is tied in the mid-house. It is usually a simple affair, and finished in a short time after sunset instead of in the day time. The offspring of such marriages are considered as legitimate, and can inherit. But remarried couples are disqualified from performing certain acts, e.g., the distribution of pān-supāri at weddings, partaking in the hārathi ceremony, etc. The disqualifications attaching to remarried people are, by a curious analogy, extended to deformed persons, who are, in some cases, considered to be widowers and widows.

Widow remarriage is allowed. However, it’s important that the people getting married are a widower and a widow. There is no special structure set up for this marriage, but all the elders support it by being present. This type of marriage is called naduvīttu tāli because the tāli is tied in the middle of the house. It’s typically a simple event that is completed shortly after sunset rather than during the day. The children from these marriages are considered legitimate and can inherit. However, remarried couples are not allowed to perform certain rituals, such as distributing pān-supāri at weddings or participating in the hārathi ceremony, etc. Interestingly, the restrictions that apply to remarried individuals are, by a curious analogy, also applied to people with deformities, who are sometimes viewed as widowers and widows.

Among the ordinary names of males are Basappa, Linganna, Dēvanna, Ellappa, Naganna; and of females Ellamma, Lingi and Nāgamma. It is said that all are entitled to the honorific Saudri; but the title is specially reserved for the agent of their sect. Among common nicknames are Chikka and Dodda Thamma (younger and elder brother), Āndi (beggar), Karapi (black woman), Gūni (hunch back). In the Mysore Province the most becoming method of addressing a Lingāyat is to call him Sivanē. Their usual titles are Ravut, Appa, Anna, and Saudri.

Among the common names for males are Basappa, Linganna, Dēvanna, Ellappa, and Naganna; and for females, Ellamma, Lingi, and Nāgamma. It is said that everyone is entitled to the honorific Saudri; however, this title is primarily reserved for the leader of their sect. Common nicknames include Chikka and Dodda Thamma (younger and elder brother), Āndi (beggar), Karapi (black woman), and Gūni (hunchback). In the Mysore Province, the most respectful way to address a Lingāyat is to call him Sivanē. Their usual titles are Ravut, Appa, Anna, and Saudri.

The child-naming ceremony is a very important one. Five swords with limes fixed to their edges are set in [209]a line with equi-distant spaces between them. By each sword are placed two plantain fruits, a cocoanut, four dried dates, two cocoanut cups, pān-supāri, and kārāmani (Vigna Catiang) cakes. In front of the swords are also placed rice-balls mixed with turmeric powder, various kinds of vegetables and fruits, curds and milk. Opposite each sword five leaves are spread out, and in front of each leaf a near relation of the family sits. The chief woman of the house then brings five pots full of water, and gives to each man a potful for the worship of the jangama linga which he wears. She also brings consecrated cow-dung ashes. The men pour the water over the linga, holding it in the left hand, and smear both the linga and their faces with the ashes. The woman then retires, and the guests partake of a hearty meal, at the conclusion of which the woman reappears with five vessels full of water, with which they wash their hands. The vessels are then broken, and thrown on a dung-heap. After partaking of pān-supāri and chunām (lime), each of the men ties up some of the food in a towel, takes one of the swords in his hand, and leaves the house without turning back. The headman of the family then removes the limes from the swords, and puts them back in their scabbards. The same evening the child is named. Sometimes this ceremony, which is costly, is held even after the child is a year old.

The child-naming ceremony is really significant. Five swords with limes attached to their edges are set up in a line with equal spacing between them. Next to each sword, there are two plantains, a coconut, four dried dates, two coconut cups, pan-supari, and karamani (Vigna Catiang) cakes. In front of the swords, there are also rice balls mixed with turmeric powder, different types of vegetables and fruits, curds, and milk. Opposite each sword, five leaves are spread out, and a close relative of the family sits in front of each leaf. The chief woman of the house then brings five pots full of water and gives each man a pot for the worship of the jangama linga that he wears. She also brings consecrated cow-dung ashes. The men pour the water over the linga, holding it in their left hand, and smear both the linga and their faces with the ashes. The woman then steps aside, and the guests enjoy a hearty meal. After the meal, she returns with five vessels of water for them to wash their hands. The vessels are then broken and thrown onto a dung heap. After having pan-supari and chunām (lime), each man wraps up some food in a towel, takes one of the swords in his hand, and leaves the house without looking back. The head of the family then removes the limes from the swords and places them back in their scabbards. That same evening, the child is named. Sometimes, this expensive ceremony takes place even after the child is a year old.

When a death takes place, information is sent round to the relations and castemen by two boys carrying little sticks in their hands. Under the instructions of a priest, the inmates of the house begin to make arrangements for the funeral. The corpse is washed, and the priest’s feet are also washed, and the refuse-water on the ground is poured over the corpse or into [210]its mouth. Among certain sections of Lingāyats it is customary, contrary to the usual Hindu practice, to invite the friends and relations, who have come for the funeral, to a banquet, at which the priest is a guest. It is said that the priest, after partaking of food, vomits a portion of it, which is shared by the members of the family. These practices do not seem to be followed by the Chingleput Lingāyats. A second bath is given to the corpse, and then the nine orifices of the body are closed with cotton or cloth. The corpse is then dressed as in life, and, if it be that of a priest, is robed in the characteristic orange tawny dress. Before clothing it, the consecrated cow-dung ashes are smeared over the forehead, arms, chest, and abdomen. The bier is made like a car, such as is seen in temple processions on the occasion of car festivals. To each of its four bamboo posts are attached a plantain tree and a cocoanut, and it is decorated with bright flowers. In the middle of the bier is a wooden plank, on which the corpse is set in a sitting position. The priest touches the dead body three or four times with his right leg, and the funeral cortège, accompanied by weird village music, proceeds to the burial-ground. The corpse, after removal from the bier, is placed in the grave in a sitting posture, facing south, with the linga, which the man had worn during life, in the mouth. Salt, according to the means of the family, is thrown into the grave by friends and relations, and it is considered that a man’s life would be wasted if he did not do this small service for a dead fellow-casteman. They quote the proverb “Did he go unserviceable even for a handful of mud?” The grave is filled in, and four lights are placed at the corners. The priest, standing over the head of the corpse, faces the lamps, with branches of Leucas aspera and Vitex Negundo at [211]his feet. A cocoanut is broken and camphor burnt, and the priest says “Lingannah (or whatever the name of the dead man may be), leaving Nara Loka, you have gone to Bhu Loka,” which is a little incongruous, for Nara Loka and Bhu Loka are identical. Perhaps the latter is a mistake for Swarga Loka, the abode of bliss of Brāhmanical theology. Possibly, Swarga Loka is not mentioned, because it signifies the abode of Vishnu. Then the priest calls out Oogay! Oogay! and the funeral ceremony is at an end. On their return home the corpse-bearers, priest, and sons of the deceased, take buttermilk, and apply it with the right hand to the left side of the back. A Nandi (the sacred bull) is made of mud, or bricks and mortar, and set up over the grave. Unmarried girls and boys are buried in a lying position. From enquiries made among the Lingāyats of Chembarambākam, it appears that, when a death has occurred, pollution is observed by the near relatives; and, even if they are living at such distant places as Bellary or Bangalore, pollution must be observed, and dissolved by a bath.

When someone dies, two boys with small sticks spread the news to relatives and members of the community. Following the priest's guidance, the people in the house start making funeral arrangements. The body is washed, and so are the priest's feet; the water used is then either poured over the body or into its mouth. Among some Lingāyats, unlike the usual Hindu practice, it's common to invite friends and family attending the funeral to a feast, where the priest is also included. It's said that after eating, the priest vomits a portion of the food, which is shared with the family. However, the Chingleput Lingāyats don’t seem to follow this custom. The body is bathed a second time, and then the nine openings of the body are sealed with cotton or cloth. The deceased is then dressed as they were in life, and if they were a priest, they wear the traditional orange robe. Before dressing the body, sacred cow-dung ashes are applied to the forehead, arms, chest, and abdomen. The bier is designed like a car used in temple processions during festivals. Each of its four bamboo posts is adorned with a banana plant and a coconut, and it is decorated with bright flowers. A wooden plank in the center holds the body in a sitting position. The priest taps the corpse three or four times with his right leg, and the funeral procession, accompanied by eerie village music, makes its way to the burial site. After being taken from the bier, the body is placed in the grave in a sitting position facing south, with the linga worn in life placed in its mouth. Friends and relatives sprinkle salt into the grave according to the family's means, believing that a man's life is wasted if he doesn’t perform this small act for a fellow community member who has passed. They often cite the saying, “Did he leave without being honored even with a handful of dirt?” Once filled, the grave has four lights placed at the corners. The priest stands at the head of the deceased facing the lamps, with branches of Leucas aspera and Vitex Negundo by his feet. A coconut is broken, camphor is burned, and the priest says, “Lingannah (or whatever the deceased's name is), leaving Nara Loka, you have gone to Bhu Loka,” which is a bit confusing since Nara Loka and Bhu Loka are the same. It’s possible that Bhu Loka is mistakenly used instead of Swarga Loka, the heavenly realm in Brahmanical belief, perhaps because Swarga Loka refers to Vishnu's realm. Then the priest calls out, "Oogay! Oogay!" and the funeral ceremony concludes. On their way back, the bearers of the corpse, the priest, and the deceased's sons drink buttermilk and apply it with their right hand to the left side of their back. A Nandi (sacred bull) is made from mud or bricks and mortar and placed over the grave. Unmarried girls and boys are buried lying down. From what I've learned from the Lingāyats of Chembarambākam, it seems that when a person dies, close relatives observe a period of pollution; and even if they are far away in places like Bellary or Bangalore, they must adhere to this pollution rule and cleanse themselves with a bath.

Basava attached no importance to pilgrimages. The Chingleput Lingāyats, however, perform what they call Jātray (i.e., pilgrimage), of which the principal celebration takes place in Chittra-Vyasi (April-May), and is called Vīrabhadra Jātray. The bamboo Lingāyats of Chembarambākam send word, with some raw rice, to the rattan Lingāyats of Kadapēri to come to the festival on a fixed day with the image of their god Vīrabhadra. The Gauliyars of Kadapēri and other villages accordingly proceed to a tank on the confines of the village of Chembrambākam, and send word that they have responded to the call of their brethren. The chief men of the village, accompanied by a crowd, and the village [212]musicians, start for the tank, and bring in the Kadapēri guests. After a feast all retire for the night, and get up at 3 A.M. for the celebration of the festival. Swords are unsheathed from their scabbards, and there is a deafening noise from trumpets and pipes. The images of Vīrabhadra are taken in procession to a tank, and, on the way thither, the idol bearers and others pretend that they are inspired, and bawl out the various names of the god. Sometimes they become so frenzied that the people break cocoanuts on their foreheads, or pierce their neck and wrists with a big needle, such as is used in stitching gunny bags. Under this treatment the inspired ones calm down. All along the route cocoanuts are broken, and may amount to as many as four hundred, which become the perquisite of the village washerman. When the tank is reached, pān-supāri and kadalai (Cicer arietinum) are distributed among the crowd. On the return journey, the village washerman has to spread dupatis (cloths) for the procession to walk over. At about noon a hearty meal is partaken of, and the ceremony is at an end. After a few days, a return celebration takes place at Kadapēri. The Vīrabhadra images of the two sections, it may be noted, are regarded as brothers. Other ceremonial pilgrimages are also made to Tirutāni, Tiruvallūr and Mylapore, and they go to Tiruvallūr on new moon days, bathe in the tank, and make offerings to Vīra Rāghava, a Vaishnava deity. They do not observe the feast of Pongal, which is so widely celebrated throughout Southern India. It is said that the celebration thereof was stopped, because, on one occasion, the cattle bolted, and the men who went in pursuit of them never returned. The Ugādi, or new year feast, is observed by them as a day of general mourning. They also observe the Kāma festival with great éclat, and one [213]of their national songs relates to the burning of Kāma. When singing it during their journeys with the curd-pots, they are said to lose themselves, and arrive at their destination without knowing the distance that they have marched.

Basava didn’t think pilgrimages were important. However, the Chingleput Lingāyats perform what they call Jātray (i.e., pilgrimage), with the main celebration happening in Chittra-Vyasi (April-May), known as Vīrabhadra Jātray. The bamboo Lingāyats from Chembarambākam send a message, along with some raw rice, to the rattan Lingāyats of Kadapēri, inviting them to come to the festival on a designated day with their god Vīrabhadra's image. The Gauliyars from Kadapēri and nearby villages then go to a tank on the edge of Chembrambākam village and let the others know they've come. The village leaders, accompanied by a crowd and local musicians, head to the tank to welcome the Kadapēri guests. After a feast, everyone retires for the night and wakes up at 3 A.M. for the festival celebrations. Swords are drawn, and loud sounds from trumpets and pipes fill the air. The images of Vīrabhadra are paraded to a tank, and along the way, those carrying the idols and others act as if they are inspired, shouting out the various names of the god. Sometimes, they become so caught up in the moment that people break coconuts on their heads or pierce their necks and wrists with a large needle, like those used for sewing gunny bags. After this, those inspired calm down. Throughout the journey, coconuts are broken, sometimes totaling as many as four hundred, which then go to the village washerman. Upon reaching the tank, pān-supāri and kadalai (Cicer arietinum) are handed out to the crowd. On the way back, the village washerman must lay down dupatis (cloths) for the procession to walk over. At about noon, everyone enjoys a hearty meal, marking the end of the ceremony. After a few days, a return celebration occurs at Kadapēri. It’s worth noting that the Vīrabhadra images from both groups are seen as brothers. They also make ceremonial pilgrimages to Tirutāni, Tiruvallūr, and Mylapore, going to Tiruvallūr on new moon days to bathe in the tank and offer prayers to Vīra Rāghava, a Vaishnava deity. They don’t celebrate the Pongal feast, which is widely observed across Southern India, reportedly because one time the cattle ran away, and the men who chased after them never returned. They observe Ugādi, or the new year feast, as a day of general mourning. They also celebrate the Kāma festival with great enthusiasm, and one of their national songs tells the story of Kāma's burning. When they sing it during their journeys with curd pots, it's said they get so into the song that they lose track of distance and arrive at their destination without realizing how far they’ve walked.

In addition to the grand Vīrabhadra festival, which is celebrated annually, the Arisērvai festival is also observed as a great occasion. This is no doubt a Tamil rendering of the Sanskrit Harisērvai, which means the service of Hari or worship of Vishnu. It is strange that Lingāyats should have this formal worship of Vishnu, and it must be a result of their environment, as they are surrounded on all sides by Vaishnavite temples. More than six months before the festival a meeting of elders is convened, and it is decided that an assessment of three pies per basket shall be levied, and the Saudri is made honorary treasurer of the fund. If a house has two or more baskets, i.e., persons using baskets in their trade, it must contribute a corresponding number of three pies. In other words, the basket, and not the family, is the unit in their communal finance. An invitation, accompanied by pān-supāri, is sent to the Thādans (Vaishnavite dramatists) near Conjeeveram, asking them to attend the festival on the last Saturday of Paratāsi, the four Saturdays of which month are consecrated to Vishnu. The Thādans arrive in due course at Chembrambākam, the centre of the bamboo section of the Lingāyats, and make arrangements for the festival. Invitations are sent to five persons of the Lingāyat community, who fast from morning till evening. About 8 or 9 P.M., these five guests, who perhaps represent priests for the occasion, arrive at the pandal (booth), and leaves are spread out before them, and a meal of rice, dhal (Cajanus indicus) water, cakes, broken cocoanuts, [214]etc., is served to them. But, instead of partaking thereof, they sit looking towards a lighted lamp, and close their eyes in meditation. They then quietly retire to their homes, where they take the evening meal. After a torchlight procession with torches fed with ghī (clarified butter) the village washermen come to the pandal, and collect together the leaves and food, which have been left there. About 11 P.M. the villagers repair to the spot where a dramatic performance of Hiranya Kasyapa Nātakam, or the Prahallāda Charitram, is held during five alternate nights. The latter play is based on a favourite story in the Bhāgavatha, and it is strange that it should be got up and witnessed by a community of Saivites, some of whom (Vīra Saivas) are such extremists that they would not tolerate the sight of a Vaishnavite at a distance.

In addition to the grand Vīrabhadra festival, celebrated every year, the Arisērvai festival is also marked as a significant event. This is undoubtedly a Tamil version of the Sanskrit Harisērvai, which translates to the service of Hari or worship of Vishnu. It's surprising that Lingāyats participate in this formal worship of Vishnu, likely due to their surroundings, as they are encircled by Vaishnavite temples. More than six months before the festival, a meeting of elders takes place, where they decide to impose a fee of three pies for each basket, and the Saudri is appointed as the honorary treasurer for the fund. If a household has two or more baskets, meaning individuals who use baskets for their work, it must pay a proportional amount of three pies. In other words, the basket, rather than the family, serves as the basis for their shared finances. An invitation, along with pān-supāri, is sent to the Thādans (Vaishnavite dramatists) near Conjeeveram, asking them to participate in the festival on the last Saturday of Paratāsi, a month during which the four Saturdays are dedicated to Vishnu. The Thādans arrive in due time at Chembrambākam, the hub of the bamboo section of the Lingāyats, and they organize the festival. Invitations are extended to five individuals from the Lingāyat community, who fast from morning until evening. Around 8 or 9 PM, these five guests, who likely play the role of priests for the event, show up at the pandal (booth). Leaves are laid out before them, and they are served a meal consisting of rice, dhal (Cajanus indicus), water, cakes, broken coconuts, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], etc. However, instead of eating, they gaze at a lit lamp and meditate with their eyes closed. They then quietly head home to have their evening meal. After a torchlight procession with torches fueled by ghī (clarified butter), the village washermen gather at the pandal to collect the leaves and food that have been left behind. Around 11 PM, the villagers go to the location where a dramatic performance of Hiranya Kasyapa Nātakam, or the Prahallāda Charitram, is staged over five alternating nights. The latter play is based on a popular tale from the Bhāgavatha, and it's peculiar that it is arranged and attended by a community of Saivites, some of whom (Vīra Saivas) are so extreme that they would not even tolerate seeing a Vaishnavite from afar.

The Chembrambākam Lingāyats appear to join the other villagers in the performance of the annual pūja (worship) to the village deity, Nāmamdamma, who is worshipped in order to ward off cholera and cattle disease. One mode of propitiating her is by sacrificing a goat, collecting its entrails and placing them in a pot, with its mouth covered with goat skin, which is taken round the village, and buried in a corner. The pot is called Bali Sētti, and he who comes in front of it while it is being carried through the streets, is supposed to be sure to suffer from serious illness, or even die. The sacrifice, filling of the pot, and its carriage through the streets, are all performed by low class Ōcchans and Vettiyāns. The Chembrambākam Lingāyats assert that the cholera goddess has given a promise that she will not attack any of their community, and keeps it faithfully, and none of them die even during the worst cholera epidemics. [215]

The Chembrambākam Lingāyats seem to participate with the other villagers in the annual pūja (worship) for the village deity, Nāmamdamma, who is revered to prevent cholera and diseases in cattle. One way to please her is by sacrificing a goat, collecting its insides, and placing them in a pot, which has its mouth covered with goat skin. This pot is carried around the village and then buried in a corner. The pot is called Bali Sētti, and anyone who comes across it while it's being carried through the streets is believed to be in danger of serious illness or even death. The sacrifice, filling the pot, and carrying it through the streets are all done by lower-class Ōcchans and Vettiyāns. The Chembrambākam Lingāyats claim that the cholera goddess has promised not to harm anyone from their community, and she keeps her word, as none of them die even during severe cholera outbreaks. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kanni (rope).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kanni (rope).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kapata.—A name for rag-wearing Koragas.

Kapata.—A term for rag-clad Koragas.

Kappala (frog).—An exogamous sept of Mādiga, and sub-division of Yānādis, who are said to be frog-eaters. It is also a gōtra of Janappans, who have a legend that, when some of their family were fishing, they caught a haul of big frogs instead of fish. Consequently, members of this gōtra will not injure frogs. I have seen frogs hanging up for sale in the Cochin bazār.

Kappala (frog).—An exogamous group of Mādiga, and a sub-division of Yānādis, who are known to eat frogs. It is also a gōtra of Janappans, who have a legend that, when some of their family were fishing, they caught a bunch of big frogs instead of fish. As a result, members of this gōtra won’t harm frogs. I have seen frogs hanging up for sale in the Cochin market.

Kāppiliyan.—The Kāppiliyans, or Karumpuraththāls, as they are sometimes called, are Canarese-speaking farmers, who are found chiefly in Madura and Tinnevelly. It is noted, in the Manual of the Madura district, that “a few of the original Poligars were Canarese; and it is to be presumed that the Kāppiliyans immigrated under their auspices. They are a decent and respectable class of farmers. Their most common agnomen is Koundan (or Kavandan).”

Kāppiliyan.—The Kāppiliyans, also known as Karumpuraththāls, are Canarese-speaking farmers primarily found in Madura and Tinnevelly. The Manual of the Madura district notes that "a few of the original Poligars were Canarese, and it's assumed that the Kāppiliyans immigrated with their support. They are a decent and respectable group of farmers. Their most common nickname is Koundan (or Kavandan)."

Some Kāppiliyans say that they came south six or seven generations ago, along with the Urumikkārans, from the banks of the Tungabhadra river, because the Tottiyans tried to ravish their women. According to another tradition, similar to that current among the Tottiyans, “the caste was oppressed by the Musalmans of the north, fled across the Tungabhadra, and was saved by two pongu (Pongamia glabra) trees bridging an unfordable stream, which blocked their escape. They travelled, says the legend, through Mysore to Conjeeveram, thence to Coimbatore, and thence to the Madura district. The stay at Conjeeveram is always emphasised, and is supported by the fact that the caste has shrines dedicated to Kānchi Varadarāja Perumāl.”103 [216]

Some Kāppiliyans say that they migrated south six or seven generations ago, alongside the Urumikkārans, from the banks of the Tungabhadra river because the Tottiyans were trying to take their women. According to another story, which is similar to one told by the Tottiyans, “the caste was oppressed by the Muslims from the north, crossed the Tungabhadra River, and was saved by two pongu (Pongamia glabra) trees that formed a bridge over an impassable stream, which had blocked their escape. They traveled, according to the legend, through Mysore to Conjeeveram, then to Coimbatore, and finally to the Madura district. Their time in Conjeeveram is always highlighted, and this is backed by the fact that the caste has shrines devoted to Kānchi Varadarāja Perumāl.”103 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Kāppiliyans are one of the nine Kambalam castes, who are so called because, at their caste council meetings, a kambli (blanket) is spread, on which is placed a kalasam (brass vessel) filled with water, and decorated with flowers. Its mouth is closed by mango leaves and a cocoanut. According to the Gazetteer of the Madura district, they are “split into two endogamous sub-divisions, namely the Dharmakattu, so called because, out of charity, they allow widows to marry one more husband, and the Mūnukattu, who permit a woman to have three husbands in succession.” They are also said to recognise, among themselves, four sub-divisions, Vokkiliyan (cultivator), Mūru Balayanōru (three bangle people), Bottu Kattōru (bottu tying people), Vokkulothōru, to the last of which the following notes mainly refer.

The Kāppiliyans are one of the nine Kambalam castes, named so because a kambli (blanket) is spread during their caste council meetings, on which a kalasam (brass vessel) filled with water is placed and decorated with flowers. Its opening is covered with mango leaves and a coconut. According to the Gazetteer of the Madura district, they are “divided into two endogamous sub-divisions: the Dharmakattu, named because they allow widows to remarry out of charity, and the Mūnukattu, who permit a woman to have three husbands in succession.” They are also said to recognize four sub-divisions among themselves: Vokkiliyan (cultivator), Mūru Balayanōru (three bangle people), Bottu Kattōru (bottu tying people), and Vokkulothōru, to which the following notes mainly refer.

They have a large number of exogamous septs, which are further divided into exogamous sub-septs, of which the following are examples:—

They have a lot of exogamous groups, which are further split into exogamous sub-groups, of which the following are examples:—

Sept. Sub-sept.
Basiriyōru Hennu (female) Basiri.
Gandu (male) Basiri.
Lodduvōru Loddu.
Palingi Loddu.
Kolingi Loddu.
Uddudhōru (Phaseolus Mungo, var. radiatus).
Hunisēyōru (tamarind people).
Mottuguni.
Manalōru, sand people.

One exogamous sept is called Ānē (elephant), and as names of sub-septs, named after animate or inanimate objects, I may mention Hatti (hamlet), Aranē (lizard) and Puli (tiger). [217]

One exogamous group is called Ānē (elephant), and among the names of sub-groups, which are based on living or non-living things, I can mention Hatti (hamlet), Aranē (lizard), and Puli (tiger). [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The affairs of the caste are regulated by a headman called Gauda, assisted by the Saundari. In some places, the assistance of a Pallan or Maravan called Jādipillai, is sought.

The activities of the caste are overseen by a leader known as the Gauda, who is helped by the Saundari. In certain areas, they also seek the help of a Pallan or Maravan referred to as Jādipillai.

Marriage is, as a rule, adult, and the common emblem of married life—the tāli or bottu—is dispensed with. On the first day of the marriage ceremonies, the bride and bridegroom are conducted, towards evening, to the houses of their maternal uncles. There the nalagu ceremony, or smearing the body with Phaseolus Mungo, sandal and turmeric paste, is performed, and the uncles place toe-rings on the feet of the contracting couple. On the following day, the bride’s price is paid, and betel is distributed, in the presence of a Kummara, Urumikkāran, and washerman, to the villagers in a special order of precedence. On the third day, the bridegroom goes in procession to the house of the bride, and their fingers are linked together by the maternal uncle or uncles. For this reason, the day is called Kai Kudukāhodina, or hand-locking day.

Marriage is usually for adults, and the traditional symbol of married life—the tāli or bottu—is not used. On the first day of the wedding ceremonies, the bride and groom are taken, in the evening, to their maternal uncles' houses. There, they have the nalagu ceremony, where their bodies are smeared with Phaseolus Mungo, sandalwood, and turmeric paste, and the uncles place toe-rings on the couple's feet. The next day, the bride’s price is paid, and betel is distributed to the villagers in a special order, in front of a potter, a Kummara, and a washerman. On the third day, the groom is paraded to the bride's house, and their fingers are linked together by the maternal uncle or uncles. Because of this, the day is called Kai Kudukāhodina, or hand-locking day.

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “the binding portions of the marriage ceremony are the donning by the bride of a turmeric-coloured cloth sent her by bridegroom, and of black glass bangles (unmarried girls may only wear bangles made of lac), and the linking of the couple’s little fingers. A man’s right to marry his paternal aunt’s daughter is so rigorously insisted upon that, as among the Tottiyans, ill-assorted matches are common. A woman, whose husband is too young to fulfil the duties of his position, is allowed to consort with his near relations, and the children so begotten are treated as his. [It is said that a woman does not suffer in reputation, if she cohabits with her brothers-in-law.] Adultery outside the caste is [218]punished by expulsion, and, to show that the woman is thenceforward as good as dead, funeral ceremonies are solemnly performed to some trinket of hers, and this is afterwards burnt.”

It is mentioned in the Gazetteer of the Madura district that “the essential parts of the marriage ceremony are the bride wearing a yellow cloth sent by the groom, wearing black glass bangles (unmarried girls can only wear bangles made of lac), and the couple linking their little fingers. A man's right to marry his father's sister's daughter is strongly emphasized, so among the Tottiyans, mismatched marriages are common. A woman whose husband is too young to fulfill his responsibilities is allowed to have relationships with his close relatives, and the children born from these relationships are regarded as his. [It's said that a woman doesn't lose her reputation if she lives with her brothers-in-law.] Adultery outside the caste is [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]punished by expulsion, and to indicate that the woman is essentially considered dead from that point on, funeral rites are conducted for one of her belongings, which is then burned.”

At the first menstrual period, a girl remains under pollution for thirteen days, in a corner of the house or outside it in the village common land (mandai). If she remains within, her maternal uncle makes a screen, and, if outside, a temporary hut, and, in return for his services, receives a hearty meal. On the thirteenth day the girl bathes in a tank (pond), and, as she enters the house, has to pass over a pestle and a cake. Near the entrance, some food is placed, which a dog is allowed to eat. While so doing, it receives a severe beating. The more noise it makes, the better is the omen for a large family of children. If the poor brute does not howl, it is supposed that the girl will bear no children. A cotton thread, dyed with turmeric, is tied round her neck by a married woman, and, if she herself is married, she puts on glass bangles. The hut is burnt down and the pots she used are broken to atoms.

At her first period, a girl stays in seclusion for thirteen days, either in a corner of her home or outside in the village common area (mandai). If she stays indoors, her maternal uncle will make a screen for her, and if she’s outside, he builds a temporary hut. In exchange for his help, he is treated to a nice meal. On the thirteenth day, the girl bathes in a pond and, as she enters the house, has to step over a pestle and a cake. Some food is set near the entrance, which a dog is allowed to eat. While this happens, the dog gets a harsh beating. The more noise the dog makes, the better the sign that a large family is in her future. If the poor dog doesn’t howl, it means the girl won’t have children. A married woman ties a cotton thread dyed with turmeric around her neck, and if she’s married herself, she puts on glass bangles. The hut is then burned down, and the pots she used are shattered into pieces.

The caste deities are said to be Lakkamma and Vīra Lakkamma, but they also worship other deities, such as Chenrāya, Thimmappa, and Siranga Perumal. Certain septs seem to have particular deities, whom they worship. Thus Thimmarāya is reverenced by the Dasiriyōru, and Malamma by the Hattiyōru.

The caste deities are known to be Lakkamma and Vīra Lakkamma, but they also worship other deities like Chenrāya, Thimmappa, and Siranga Perumal. Some groups appear to have specific deities that they honor. For example, Thimmarāya is respected by the Dasiriyōru, while Malamma is honored by the Hattiyōru.

The dead are as a rule cremated, but children, those who have died of cholera, and pregnant women, are buried. In the case of the last, the child is, before burial, removed from the mother’s body. The funeral ceremonies are carried out very much on the lines of those of the Tottiyans. Fire is carried to the burning ground by a Chakkiliyan. On the last day of the death [219]ceremonies (karmāndiram) cooked food, fruits of Solanum xanthocarpum, and leaves of Leucas aspera are placed on a tray, by the side of which a bit of a culm of Saccharum arundinaceum, with leaves of Cynodon Dactylon twined round it, is deposited. The tray is taken to a stream, on the bank of which an effigy is made, to which the various articles are offered. A small quantity thereof is placed on arka (Calotropis gigantea) leaves, to be eaten by crows. On the return journey to the house, three men, the brother-in-law or father-in-law of the deceased, and two sapindas (agnates) stand in a row at a certain spot. A cloth is stretched before them as a screen, over which they place their right hands. These a washerman touches thrice with Cynodon leaves dipped in milk, cow’s urine, and turmeric water. The washerman then washes the hands with water. All the agnates place new turbans on their heads, and go back in procession to the village, accompanied by a Urimikkāran and washerman, who must be present throughout the ceremony.

The dead are usually cremated, but children, those who died from cholera, and pregnant women are buried. In the case of the latter, the child is removed from the mother’s body before burial. The funeral ceremonies are conducted similarly to those of the Tottiyans. A Chakkiliyan brings fire to the cremation site. On the final day of the death ceremonies (karmāndiram), cooked food, fruits of Solanum xanthocarpum, and leaves of Leucas aspera are placed on a tray, alongside a piece of a stem of Saccharum arundinaceum, with Cynodon Dactylon leaves twisted around it. The tray is taken to a stream, where an effigy is made, and the various items are offered to it. A small amount is placed on arka (Calotropis gigantea) leaves for crows to eat. On the way back to the house, three men—the brother-in-law or father-in-law of the deceased, and two sapindas (agnates)—stand in a line at a specific spot. A cloth is held up in front of them as a screen, over which they place their right hands. A washerman touches their hands three times with Cynodon leaves dipped in milk, cow’s urine, and turmeric water. The washerman then washes their hands with water. All the agnates put on new turbans and return in a procession to the village, accompanied by a Urimikkāran and a washerman, who must be present for the entire ceremony.

For the following note on the Kāppiliyans of the Kambam valley, in the Madura district, I am indebted to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. According to a tradition which is current among them, they migrated from their original home in search of new grazing ground for their cattle. The herd, which they brought with them, still lives in its descendants in the valley, which are small, active animals, well known for their trotting powers. It is about a hundred and fifty strong, and is called dēvaru āvu in Canarese, and thambirān mādu in Tamil, both meaning the sacred herd. The cows are never milked, and their calves, when they grow up, are not used for any purpose, except breeding. When the cattle die, they are buried deep in the ground, and not handed [220]over to Chakkiliyans (leather-workers). One of the bulls goes by the name of pattada āvu, or the king bull. It is selected from the herd by a quaint ceremonial. On an auspicious day, the castemen assemble, and offer incense, camphor, cocoanuts, plantains, and betel to the herd. Meanwhile, a bundle of sugar-cane is placed in front thereof, and the spectators eagerly watch to see which of the bulls will reach it first. The animal which does so is caught hold of, daubed with turmeric, and decorated with flowers, and installed as the king bull. It is styled Nanda Gōpāla, or Venugōpālaswāmi, after Krishna, the divine cattle-grazer, and is an object of adoration by the caste. To meet the expenses of the ceremony, which amount to about two hundred rupees, a subscription is raised among them. The king bull has a special attendant, or driver, whose duties are to graze and worship it. He belongs to the Māragala section of the Endār sub-division of the caste. When he dies, a successor is appointed in the following manner. Before the assembled castemen, pūja (worship) is offered to the sacred herd, and a young boy, “upon whom the god comes,” points out a man from among the Māragalas, who becomes the next driver. He enjoys the inams, and is the custodian of the jewels presented to the king bull in former days, and of the copper plates, whereon grants made in its name are engraved. As many as nine of these copper grants were entrusted to the keeping of a youthful driver, about sixteen years old, in 1905. Most of them record grants from unknown kings. One Ponnum Pāndyan, a king of Gudalūr, is recorded as having made grants of land, and other presents to the bull. Others record gifts of land from Ballāla Rāya and Rāma Rāyar. Only the names of the years are recorded. None of the plates contain the saka [221]dates. Before the annual migration of the herd to the hills during the summer, a ceremony is carried out, to determine whether the king bull is in favour of its going. Two plates, one containing milk, and the other sugar, are placed before the herd. Unless, or until the bull has come up to them, and gone back, the migration does not take place. The driver, or some one deputed to represent him, goes with the herd, which is accompanied by most of the cattle of the neighbouring villages. The driver is said to carry a pot of fresh-drawn milk within a kāvadi (shrine). On the day on which the return journey to the valley is commenced, the pot is opened, and the milk is said to be found in a hardened state. A slice thereof is cut off, and given to each person who accompanied the herd to the hills. It is believed that the milk would not remain in good condition, if the sacred herd had been in any way injuriously affected during its sojourn there. The sacred herd is recruited by certain calves dedicated as members thereof by people of other castes in the neighbourhood of the valley. These calves, born on the 1st of the month Thai (January-February), are dedicated to the god Nandagōpāla, and are known as sanni pasuvu. They are branded on the legs or buttocks, and their ears are slightly torn. They are not used for ploughing or milking, and cannot be sold. They are added to the sacred herd, but the male calves are kept distinct from the male calves thereof. Many miracles are attributed to the successive king bulls. During the fight between the Tottiyans and Kāppiliyans at Dindigul, a king bull left on the rock the permanent imprint of its hoof, which is still believed to be visible. At a subsequent quarrel between the same castes, at Dombachēri, a king bull made the sun turn back in its course, and the shadow [222]is still pointed under a tamarind tree beneath which arbitration took place. For the assistance rendered by the bull on this occasion, the Māragalas will not use the wood of the tamarind tree, or of the vēla tree, to which the bull was tied, either for fuel or for house-building. The Kāppiliyans have recently (1906) raised Rs. 11,000 by taxing all members of the caste in the Periyakulam tāluk for three years, and have spent this sum in building roomy masonry quarters at Kambam for the sacred herd. Their chief grievance at present is that the same grazing fees are levied on their animals as on mere ordinary cattle, which, they urge, is equivalent to treating gods as equals of men. In the settlement of caste affairs, oaths are taken within the enclosure for the sacred herd.

For the following note on the Kāppiliyans of the Kambam Valley in the Madura district, I am grateful to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. According to a tradition among them, they migrated from their original home in search of new grazing land for their cattle. The herd they brought with them still exists in the valley, consisting of small, active animals known for their trotting abilities. It number about one hundred and fifty and is called dēvaru āvu in Canarese and thambirān mādu in Tamil, both meaning the sacred herd. The cows are never milked, and their calves, when they grow up, are only used for breeding. When cattle die, they are buried deep in the ground and not given to Chakkiliyans (leather-workers). One of the bulls is known as pattada āvu, or the king bull. This bull is selected through a unique ceremony. On an auspicious day, the castemen gather and offer incense, camphor, coconuts, plantains, and betel to the herd. Meanwhile, a bundle of sugarcane is placed in front of them, and everyone eagerly watches to see which bull reaches it first. The bull that does is captured, smeared with turmeric, decorated with flowers, and declared the king bull. It is named Nanda Gōpāla or Venugōpālaswāmi, after Krishna, the divine cattle-grazer, and is venerated by the caste. To cover the ceremony's expenses, which are about two hundred rupees, a subscription is collected among them. The king bull has a special attendant, or driver, whose job is to take care of and worship it. He belongs to the Māragala section of the Endār sub-division of the caste. When the driver dies, a successor is chosen in the following way. In front of the assembled castemen, pūja (worship) is performed for the sacred herd, and a young boy, “upon whom the god comes,” points out a man from the Māragalas, who becomes the next driver. He receives inams and is the custodian of the jewels once presented to the king bull and the copper plates that record grants made in its name. In 1905, as many as nine copper grants were kept by a young driver who was about sixteen years old. Most of these grants come from unknown kings. A king named Ponnum Pāndyan from Gudalūr is noted for having given land and other gifts to the bull, while others mention land gifts from Ballāla Rāya and Rāma Rāyar, only recording the years. None of the plates include the saka dates. Before the herd migrates to the hills in summer, a ceremony is held to check whether the king bull approves of the migration. Two plates, one with milk and the other with sugar, are placed before the herd. Migration does not occur unless the bull approaches and then retreats from them. The driver, or someone appointed to represent him, goes along with the herd, which is usually accompanied by most of the cattle from neighboring villages. The driver is said to carry a pot of fresh milk in a kāvadi (shrine). On the day the return journey to the valley starts, the pot is opened, and the milk is found to be hardened. A slice is cut off and given to each person who accompanied the herd to the hills. It is believed that the milk would spoil if anything had harmed the sacred herd during its time away. The sacred herd is replenished by calves dedicated as members by people of other local castes. These calves, born on the 1st of the month Thai (January-February), are dedicated to the god Nandagōpāla and are called sanni pasuvu. They are branded on their legs or backs, and their ears are slightly torn. They are not used for plowing or milking and cannot be sold. They join the sacred herd, but the male calves are kept separate from the male calves of the herd. Many miracles are attributed to the successive king bulls. During a conflict between the Tottiyans and Kāppiliyans at Dindigul, a king bull left a permanent hoof imprint on a rock that is still believed to be visible. In another fight between the same castes at Dombachēri, a king bull made the sun reverse its course, and the shadow [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] is still pointed out under a tamarind tree where arbitration took place. In gratitude for the assistance the bull provided on that occasion, the Māragalas refrain from using the wood of the tamarind tree or the vēla tree, to which the bull was tied, for fuel or construction. The Kāppiliyans recently (1906) raised Rs. 11,000 by taxing all caste members in the Periyakulam tāluk over three years and have spent this amount on building spacious masonry quarters at Kambam for the sacred herd. Their main complaint now is that the same grazing fees are charged for their animals as for ordinary cattle, which they believe is akin to treating gods as equals to humans. In resolving caste matters, oaths are taken within the enclosure for the sacred herd.

“Local tradition at Kambam (where a large proportion of the people are Kāppiliyans) says that the Anuppans, another Canarese caste, were in great strength here in olden days, and that quarrels arose between the two bodies, in the course of which the chief of the Kāppiliyans, Rāmachcha Kavundan, was killed. With his dying breath he cursed the Anuppans, and thenceforth they never prospered, and now not one of them is left in the town. A fig tree to the east of the village is shown as marking the place where Rāmachcha’s body was burned; near it is the tank, the Rāmachchankulam; and under the bank of this is his math, where his ashes were deposited.”104

“Local tradition in Kambam (where many people are Kāppiliyans) says that the Anuppans, another Canarese caste, were very powerful here in the past, and conflicts arose between the two groups, during which the chief of the Kāppiliyans, Rāmachcha Kavundan, was killed. With his last breath, he cursed the Anuppans, and from then on they never thrived, and now not one of them remains in the town. A fig tree to the east of the village is shown as the spot where Rāmachcha’s body was cremated; nearby is the tank, the Rāmachchankulam; and underneath the bank of this is his math, where his ashes were laid to rest.”104

Kāpu.—The Kāpus or Reddis are the largest caste in the Madras Presidency, numbering more than two millions, and are the great caste of cultivators, farmers, and squireens in the Telugu country. In the Gazetteer of Anantapur they are described as being the great [223]land-holding body in the Telugu districts, who are held in much respect as substantial, steady-going yeomen, and next to the Brāhmans are the leaders of Hindu Society. In the Salem Manual it is stated that “the Reddis are provident. They spend their money on the land, but are not parsimonious. They are always well dressed, if they can afford it. The gold ornaments worn by the women or the men are of the finest kind of gold. Their houses are always neat and well built, and the Reddis give the idea of good substantial ryots. They live chiefly on rāgi (grain: Eleusine Coracana), and are a fine, powerful race.” Of proverbs relating to the hereditary occupation of the Reddis, the following may be quoted. “Only a Reddi can cultivate the land, even though he has to drink for every clod turned over.” “Those are Reddis who get their living by cultivating the earth.” “The Reddi who grows arika (Paspalum strobiculatum) can have but one cloth for man and wife.”

Kāpu.—The Kāpus or Reddis are the largest caste in the Madras Presidency, with a population of over two million. They are the main caste of farmers and landowners in the Telugu region. In the Gazetteer of Anantapur, they are described as the key land-holding group in the Telugu districts, respected as reliable, hardworking individuals, and after the Brāhmans, they are the leaders of Hindu society. The Salem Manual notes that “the Reddis are resourceful. They invest their money in land but are not stingy. They always dress well if they can afford it. The gold jewelry worn by both women and men is of the highest quality. Their homes are consistently tidy and well-constructed, and the Reddis give the impression of being solid, dependable farmers. Their primary diet consists of rāgi (grain: Eleusine Coracana), and they are known to be a strong, resilient people.” Among the proverbs related to the traditional work of the Reddis, the following can be mentioned: “Only a Reddi can farm the land, even if he has to drink for every clod turned over.” “Those are Reddis who earn their living by cultivating the earth.” “The Reddi who grows arika (Paspalum strobiculatum) can afford only one piece of clothing for both husband and wife.”

“The term Kāpu,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,105 “means a watchman, and Reddi means a king. The Kāpus or Reddis (Ratti) appear to have been a powerful Dravidian tribe in the early centuries of the Christian era, for they have left traces of their presence at various places in almost every part of India. Though their power has been put down from time to time by the Chālukyas, the Pallavas, and the Bellālas, several families of zamindars came into existence after the captivity of Pratāpa Rudra of Warrangal in A.D. 1323 by the Muhammadan emperor Ghiyas-ud-dīn Toghluk.”

“The term Kāpu,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,105 “means a watchman, and Reddi means a king. The Kāpus or Reddis (Ratti) seem to have been a powerful Dravidian tribe in the early centuries of the Christian era, as they have left signs of their presence in almost every part of India. Even though their power has been suppressed at various times by the Chālukyas, the Pallavas, and the Bellālas, various families of zamindars emerged after the capture of Pratāpa Rudra of Warrangal in A.D. 1323 by the Muhammadan emperor Ghiyas-ud-dīn Toghluk.”

Writing in the Manual of the Salem district concerning the Kongu kingdom, the Rev. T. Foulkes states that “the Kongu kingdom claims to have existed from [224]about the commencement of the Christian era, and to have continued under its own independent kings down to nearly the end of the ninth century A.D., when it was conquered by the Chola kings of Tanjore, and annexed to their dominions. The earliest portion of the Kongu Chronicle (one of the manuscripts of the Mackenzie collection) gives a series of short notices of the reigns of twenty-eight kings who ruled the country previous to its conquest by the Cholas. These kings belonged to two distinct dynasties: the earlier line was of the solar race, and the later line of the Ganga race. The earlier dynasty had a succession of seven kings of the Ratti tribe, a tribe very extensively distributed, which has at various periods left its mark throughout almost every part of India. This is probably the earliest reference to them as a ruling power, and it is the most southern situation in which they ever held dominion. They disappear in these parts about the end of the second century A.D.; and, in the next historical references to them, we find them high up in the Northern Dakkan, amongst the kingdoms conquered by the Chālukyas about the fourth century A.D. soon after they first crossed the Nerbudda. In the Kongu Chronicle they are stated to be of the solar race: and the genealogies of this tribe accordingly trace them up to Kusha, the second son of Rāma, the hero of the great solar epic of the Hindus; but their claim to this descent is not undisputed. They are, however, sometimes said to be of the lunar race, and of the Yādava tribe, though this latter statement is sometimes confined to the later Rāthors.” According to the Rev. T. Foulkes, the name Ratti is found under various forms, e.g., Irattu, Iretti, Radda, Rāhtor, Rathaur, Rāshtra-kūta, Ratta, Reddi, etc.

Writing in the Manual of the Salem district about the Kongu kingdom, Rev. T. Foulkes mentions that “the Kongu kingdom claims to have existed from [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]around the beginning of the Christian era, and to have continued under its own independent kings until nearly the end of the ninth century A.D., when it was conquered by the Chola kings of Tanjore and added to their territories. The earliest part of the Kongu Chronicle (one of the manuscripts in the Mackenzie collection) provides a series of brief accounts of the reigns of twenty-eight kings who ruled the region before its takeover by the Cholas. These kings came from two distinct dynasties: the earlier line was of the solar race, and the later line of the Ganga race. The earlier dynasty had a succession of seven kings from the Ratti tribe, a tribe that was quite widespread and has left its mark in nearly every part of India at various times. This is likely the earliest mention of them as a ruling power, and it is the farthest south they ever held sway. They fade from this area by the end of the second century A.D., and in subsequent historical references, they are found in the Northern Dakkan, among the kingdoms conquered by the Chālukyas around the fourth century A.D. soon after they first crossed the Nerbudda. In the Kongu Chronicle, they are said to be of the solar race: the genealogies of this tribe connect them to Kusha, the second son of Rāma, the hero of the great solar epic of the Hindus; however, their claim to this lineage is contested. They are sometimes described as being of the lunar race and from the Yādava tribe, although this latter statement is occasionally limited to the later Rāthors.” According to Rev. T. Foulkes, the name Ratti appears in various forms, e.g., Irattu, Iretti, Radda, Rāhtor, Rathaur, Rāshtra-kūta, Ratta, Reddi, etc.

Kāpu.

Kāpu.

Kāpu.

[225]

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In a note on the Rāshtrakutas, Mr. J. F. Fleet writes106 that “we find that, from the first appearance of the Chalukyas in this part of the country, in the fifth century A.D., the Kanarese districts of the Bombay Presidency were held by them, with short periods of interruption of their power caused by the invasions of the Pallavas and other kings, down to about the early part or the middle of the eighth century A.D. Their sway over this part of the country then ceased entirely for a time. This was due to an invasion by the Rāshtrakuta kings, who, like their predecessors, came from the north.... It is difficult to say when there was first a Rāshtrakuta kingdom. The earliest notices that we have of the family are contained in the western Chalukya inscriptions. Thus, the Miraj plates tell us that Jayasimha I, restored the fortunes of the Chalukya dynasty by defeating, among others, one Indra of the Rāshtrakuta family, who was the son of Krishna, and who possessed an army of eight hundred elephants; and there is little doubt that Āppāyika-Govinda, who, as we are told in the Aihole Meguti inscription, came from the north and invaded the Chalukya kingdom with his troops of elephants, and was repulsed by Pulikesi II, also belonged to this same dynasty. It is plain, therefore, that in the fifth and sixth centuries A.D. the Rāshtrakuta dynasty was one of considerable importance in central or in northern India. The later inscriptions state that the Rāshtrakutas were of the Somavamsa or lunar race, and were descendants of Yadu. Dr. Burnell seems inclined to look upon the family as of Dravidian origin, as he gives ‘Rāshtra’ as an instance of the Sanskritising of Dravidian names, and considers it to be a mythological [226]perversion for ‘Ratta,’ which is the same as the Kanarese and Telugu ‘Reddi.’ Dr. Bühler is unable to record any opinion as to ‘whether the Rāshtrakutas were an Āryan Kshatriya, i.e., Rājput race, which immigrated into the Dekkan from the north like the Chalukyas, or a Drāvidian family which was received into the Āryan community after the conquest of the Dekkan. The earliest inscriptions, at any rate, show them as coming from the north, and, whatever may be their origin, as the word Rāshtrakuta is used in many inscriptions of other dynasties as the equivalent of Rāshtrapati, i.e., as an official word meaning ‘the headman or governor of a country or district,’ it appears to me that the selection of it as a dynastic name implies that, prior to attaining independent sovereignty, the Rāshtrakutas were feudal chiefs under some previous dynasty, of which they have not preserved any record.”

In a note on the Rāshtrakutas, Mr. J. F. Fleet writes106 that “from the time the Chalukyas first appeared in this region in the fifth century A.D., the Kanarese districts of the Bombay Presidency were under their control, with only short interruptions due to invasions by the Pallavas and other kings, lasting until around the early to mid-eighth century A.D. Their rule in this area then completely ended for a while, which was caused by an invasion from the Rāshtrakuta kings, who, like their predecessors, came from the north…. It’s hard to determine when the Rāshtrakuta kingdom first emerged. The earliest records we have about the family are found in the western Chalukya inscriptions. For instance, the Miraj plates mention that Jayasimha I restored the fortunes of the Chalukya dynasty by defeating, among others, an Indra from the Rāshtrakuta family, who was the son of Krishna and had an army of eight hundred elephants. There is also strong evidence that Āppāyika-Govinda, who came from the north and invaded the Chalukya kingdom with his elephant troops but was pushed back by Pulikesi II, also belonged to the same dynasty. Thus, it’s clear that during the fifth and sixth centuries A.D., the Rāshtrakuta dynasty was quite significant in central and northern India. Later inscriptions indicate that the Rāshtrakutas were of the Somavamsa or lunar lineage and were descendants of Yadu. Dr. Burnell seems to view the family as having Dravidian roots, as he considers ‘Rāshtra’ to be an example of the Sanskrit adaptation of Dravidian names, and he believes it to be a mythological [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] distortion of ‘Ratta,’ which corresponds to the Kanarese and Telugu ‘Reddi.’ Dr. Bühler cannot state whether the Rāshtrakutas were an Aryan Kshatriya, that is, a Rājput group that migrated into the Dekkan from the north like the Chalukyas, or a Dravidian family that was integrated into the Aryan community after conquering the Dekkan.' Nevertheless, the earliest inscriptions indicate that they came from the north. Regardless of their origins, since the term Rāshtrakuta appears in various inscriptions of other dynasties as synonymous with Rāshtrapati, meaning ‘the headman or governor of a country or district,’ it suggests that the adoption of this name as a dynastic identifier implies that, before achieving independent rule, the Rāshtrakutas functioned as feudal chiefs under another dynasty, of which they have left no records.”

It is a common saying among the Kāpus that they can easily enumerate all the varieties of rice, but it is impossible to give the names of all the sections into which the caste is split up. Some say that there are only fourteen of these, and use the phrase Panta padnālagu kulālu, or Panta and fourteen sections.

It’s a common saying among the Kāpus that they can easily list all the types of rice, but naming all the subdivisions of the caste is impossible. Some claim there are only fourteen of these subdivisions and use the phrase Panta padnālagu kulālu, meaning Panta and fourteen sections.

The following sub-divisions are recorded by Mr. Stuart107 as being the most important:—

The following subdivisions are noted by Mr. Stuart107 as the most significant:—

Ayōdhya, or Oudh, where Rāma is reputed to have lived. The sub-division is found in Madura and Tinnevelly. They are very proud of their supposed connection with Oudh. At the commencement of the marriage ceremony, the bride’s party asks the bridegroom’s who they are, and the answer is that they are Ayōdhya Reddis. A similar question is then asked by [227]the bridegroom’s party, and the bride’s friends reply that they are Mithila Reddis.

Ayodhya, or Oudh, where Rama is believed to have lived. The subdivision is located in Madura and Tinnevelly. They take great pride in their supposed connection to Oudh. At the start of the wedding ceremony, the bride's family asks the groom's family who they are, and the response is that they are Ayodhya Reddis. A similar question is then posed by the groom's family, and the bride’s friends reply that they are Mithila Reddis.

Balija. The chief Telugu trading caste. Many of the Balijas are now engaged in cultivation, and this accounts for so many having returned Kāpu as their main caste, for Kāpu is a common Telugu word for a ryot or cultivator. It is not improbable that there was once a closer connection than now between the Kāpus and Balijas.

Balija. The main Telugu trading group. Many Balijas are now involved in farming, which is why so many identify as Kāpu, since Kāpu is a common Telugu term for a farmer or cultivator. It's likely that there was once a stronger connection between the Kāpus and Balijas than there is today.

Bhūmanchi (good earth).

Good earth.

Dēsūr. Possibly residents originally of a place called Dēsūr, though some derive the word from dēha, body, and sūra, valour, saying that they were renowned for their courage.

Dēsūr. They might have originally been people from a place called Dēsūr, although some say the name comes from dēha, meaning body, and sūra, meaning valor, claiming that they were known for their bravery.

Gandi Kottai. Found in Madura and Tinnevelly. Named after Gandi Kōta in the Ceded districts, whence they are said to have emigrated southward.

Gandi Kottai. Located in Madura and Tinnevelly. Named after Gandi Kōta in the Ceded districts, from where it's believed they migrated south.

Gāzula (glass bangle makers). A sub-division of the Balijas. They are said to have two sections, called Nāga (cobra) and Tābēlu (tortoise), and, in some places, to keep their women gōsha.

Gāzula (glass bangle makers). A sub-division of the Balijas. They are said to have two sections, called Nāga (cobra) and Tābēlu (tortoise), and, in some places, to keep their women gōsha.

Kammapuri. These seem to be Kammas, who, in some places, pass as Kāpus. Some Kammas, for example, who have settled in the city of Madras, call themselves Kāpu or Reddi.

Kammapuri. These appear to be Kammas, who, in certain areas, go by the name Kāpus. Some Kammas, for instance, who have moved to the city of Madras, refer to themselves as Kāpu or Reddi.

Morasa. A sub-division of the Vakkaligas. The Verala icche Kāpulu, or Kāpus who give the fingers, have a custom which requires that, when a grandchild is born in a family, the wife of the eldest son of the grandfather must have the last two joints of the third and fourth fingers of her right hand amputated at a temple of Bhairava.

Morasa. A sub-group of the Vakkaligas. The Verala icche Kāpulu, or Kāpus who give the fingers, have a tradition that states when a grandchild is born into a family, the wife of the oldest son of the grandfather must have the last two joints of the third and fourth fingers of her right hand removed at a Bhairava temple.

Nerati, Nervati, or Neradu. Most numerous in Kurnool, and the Ceded districts. [228]

Nerati, Nervati, or Neradu. Predominantly found in Kurnool and the Ceded districts. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Oraganti. Said to have formerly worked in the salt-pans. The name is possibly a corruption of Warangal, capital of the Pratāpa Rudra.

Oraganti. It's said that they previously worked in the salt pans. The name might be a distorted version of Warangal, the capital of Pratāpa Rudra.

Pākanāti. Those who come from the eastern country (prāk nādu).

Pākanāti. Those from the eastern region (prāk nādu).

Palle. In some places, the Pallis who have settled in the Telugu country call themselves Palle Kāpulu, and give as their gōtra Jambumāha Rishi, which is the gōtra of the Pallis. Though they do not intermarry with the Kāpus, the Palle Kāpulu may interdine with them.

Palle. In certain areas, the Pallis who have moved to the Telugu region refer to themselves as Palle Kāpulu, and they claim the gōtra Jambumāha Rishi, which is the gōtra of the Pallis. While they don't marry into the Kāpus, the Palle Kāpulu can share meals with them.

Panta (Panta, a crop). The largest sub-division of all.

Panta (Panta, a crop). The biggest subdivision of them all.

Pedaganti or Pedakanti. By some said to be named after a place called Pedagallu. By others the word is said to be derived from peda, turned aside, and kamma eye, indicating one who turns his eyes away from the person who speaks to him. Another suggestion is that it means stiff-necked. The Pedakantis are said to be known by their arrogance.

Pedaganti or Pedakanti. Some say it's named after a place called Pedagallu. Others suggest the term comes from peda, meaning turned aside, and kamma eye, referring to someone who avoids looking at the person speaking to them. Another explanation is that it means stiff-necked. The Pedakantis are said to be recognized for their arrogance.

The following legend is narrated in the Baramahal Records.108 “On a time, the Guru or Patriarch came near a village, and put up in a neighbouring grove until he sent in a Dāsari to apprize his sectaries of his approach. The Dāsari called at the house of one of them, and announced the arrival of the Guru, but the master of the house took no notice of him, and, to avoid the Guru, he ran away through the back door of the house, which is called peradu, and by chance came to the grove, and was obliged to pay his respects to the Guru, who asked if he had seen his Dāsari, and he answered that he had been all day from home. On which, the Guru sent for the Dāsari, and demanded the [229]reason of his staying away so long, when he saw the master of the house was not in it. The Dāsari replied that the person was at home when he went there, but that, on seeing him, he fled through the back door, which the Guru finding true, he surnamed him the Peratiguntavaru or the runaway through the back door, now corruptly called Perdagantuwaru, and said that he would never honour him with another visit, and that he and his descendants should henceforth have no Guru or Patriarch.”

The following legend is narrated in the Baramahal Records.108 “One time, the Guru or Patriarch approached a village and stayed in a nearby grove until he sent a Dāsari to inform his followers of his arrival. The Dāsari visited the home of one of them and announced the Guru's arrival, but the homeowner ignored him and, to avoid the Guru, ran away through the back door of the house, known as peradu. By coincidence, he ended up in the grove and had to pay his respects to the Guru, who asked if he had seen his Dāsari. He replied that he had been out all day. The Guru then called for the Dāsari and asked why he had taken so long to return, noting that the homeowner was not in. The Dāsari explained that the man was home when he arrived, but upon seeing him, he had fled through the back door. Upon realizing this was true, the Guru nicknamed him the Peratiguntavaru, or the runaway through the back door, which is now corrupted to Perdagantuwaru, and declared that he would never visit him again and that he and his descendants would henceforth have no Guru or Patriarch.”

Pōkanādu (pōka, areca palm: Areca Catechu).

Pōkanādu (pōka, areca palm: Areca Catechu).

Velanāti. Kāpus from a foreign (veli) country.

Velanāti. Kāpus from a foreign (veli) country.

Yerlam.

Yerlam.

“The last division,” Mr. Stuart writes, “are the most peculiar of all, and are partly of Brāhmanical descent. The story goes that a Brāhman girl named Yerlamma, not having been married by her parents in childhood, as she should have been, was for that reason turned out of her caste. A Kāpu, or some say a Besta man, took compassion on her, and to him she bore many children, the ancestors of the Yerlam Kāpu caste. In consequence of the harsh treatment of Yerlamma by her parents and caste people, all her descendants hate Brāhmans with a deadly hatred, and look down upon them, affecting also to be superior to every other caste. They are most exclusive, refusing to eat with any caste whatever, or even to take chunam (lime for chewing with betel) from any but their own people, whereas Brāhmans will take lime from a Sūdra, provided a little curd be mixed with it. The Yerlam Kāpus do not employ priests of the Brāhman or other religious classes even for their marriages. At these no hōmam (sacred fire) ceremony is performed, and no worship offered to Vignēswara, but they simply ascertain a fortunate day [230]and hour, and get an old matron (sumangali) to tie the tāli to the bride’s neck, after which there is feasting and merry-making.”

“The last group,” Mr. Stuart writes, “is the most unusual of all and has some Brāhmanical ancestry. The story goes that a Brāhman girl named Yerlamma, who hadn’t been married by her parents in childhood as she should have been, was cast out of her caste for that reason. A Kāpu, or some say a Besta man, took pity on her, and she had many children with him, who are the ancestors of the Yerlam Kāpu caste. Because of the harsh treatment Yerlamma received from her parents and her caste, all her descendants harbor a deep hatred for Brāhmans and look down on them, even acting as if they are superior to every other caste. They are very exclusive, refusing to eat with any other caste at all, or even to accept chunam (lime for chewing with betel) from anyone but their own people, while Brāhmans will take lime from a Sūdra if it’s mixed with a little curd. The Yerlam Kāpus do not hire priests from the Brāhman or any other religious groups even for their weddings. At these ceremonies, no hōmam (sacred fire) ceremony is performed, and no worship is given to Vignēswara; they simply find a lucky day [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]and time and have an older woman (sumangali) tie the tāli around the bride’s neck, after which there’s feasting and celebration.”

The Panta Kāpus are said to be divided into two tegas or endogamous divisions, viz., Peramā Reddi or Muduru Kāpu (ripe or old Kāpu); and Kātama Reddi or Letha Kāpu (young or unripe Kāpus). A sub-division called Konda (hill) Kāpus is mentioned by the Rev. J. Cain 109 as being engaged in cultivation and the timber trade in the eastern ghāts near the Godāvari river (see Konda Dora). Ākula (betel-leaf seller) was returned at the census, 1901, as a sub-caste of Kāpus.

The Panta Kāpus are said to be split into two groups or endogamous divisions: Peramā Reddi or Muduru Kāpu (ripe or old Kāpu) and Kātama Reddi or Letha Kāpu (young or unripe Kāpus). A sub-division called Konda (hill) Kāpus is mentioned by Rev. J. Cain 109 as being involved in farming and the timber trade in the eastern ghâts near the Godāvari river (see Konda Dora). Ākula (betel-leaf seller) was listed in the 1901 census as a sub-caste of Kāpus.

In the Census Report, 1891, Kāpu (indicating cultivator), is given as a sub-division of Chakkiliyans, Dommaras, Gadabas, Savaras and Tēlis. It further occurs as a sub-division of Mangala. Some Marātha cultivators in the Telugu country are known as Arē Kāpu. The Konda Doras are also called Konda Kāpus. In the Census Report, 1901, Pandu is returned as a Tamil synonym, and Kāmpo as an Oriya form of Kāpu.

In the Census Report of 1891, Kāpu (meaning cultivator) is listed as a sub-division of Chakkiliyans, Dommaras, Gadabas, Savaras, and Tēlis. It also appears as a sub-division of Mangala. Some Marātha cultivators in the Telugu region are referred to as Arē Kāpu. The Konda Doras are also known as Konda Kāpus. In the Census Report of 1901, Pandu is noted as a Tamil equivalent, and Kāmpo is described as an Oriya version of Kāpu.

Reddi is the usual title of the Kāpus, and is the title by which the village munsiff is called in the Telugu country, regardless of the caste to which he may belong. Reddi also occurs as a sub-division of cultivating Linga Balijas, Telugu Vadukans or Vadugans in the Tamil country, Velamas, and Yānādis. It is further given as a name for Kavarais engaged in agriculture, and as a title of the Kallangi sub-division of Pallis, and Sādars. The name Sambuni Reddi is adopted by some Palles engaged as fishermen.

Reddi is the common title for the Kāpus and is what the village head is called in the Telugu region, regardless of his caste. Reddi is also a sub-group among farming Linga Balijas, Telugu Vadukans or Vadugans in the Tamil region, Velamas, and Yānādis. Additionally, it's used as a name for Kavarais involved in agriculture and as a title for the Kallangi sub-group of Pallis and Sādars. Some Palles who are fishermen use the name Sambuni Reddi.

As examples of exogamous septs among the Kāpus, the following may be cited:— [231]

As examples of exogamous groups among the Kāpus, the following can be mentioned:— [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

  • Avula, cow.
  • Alla, grain.
  • Bandi, cart.
  • Barrelu, buffaloes.
  • Dandu, army.
  • Gorre, sheep.
  • Gudise, hut.
  • Guntaka, harrow.
  • Kōdla, fowl.
  • Mēkala, goats.
  • Kānugala, Pongamia glabra.
  • Mungāru, woman’s skirt.
  • Nāgali, plough.
  • Tangēdu, Cassia auriculata.
  • Udumala, Varanus bengalensis.
  • Varige, Setaria italica.
  • Yeddulu, bulls.
  • Yēnuga, elephant.

At Conjeeveram, some Panta Reddis have true totemistic septs, of which the following are examples:—

At Conjeeveram, some Panta Reddis have genuine totemic clans, and here are some examples:—

Magili (Pandanus fascicularis). Women do not, like women of other castes, use the flower-bracts for the purpose of adorning themselves. A man has been known to refuse to purchase some bamboo mats, because they were tied with the fibre of this tree.

Magili (Pandanus fascicularis). Women, unlike those from other castes, don’t use the flower bracts to decorate themselves. There’s a story of a man who wouldn’t buy some bamboo mats because they were tied with the fiber from this tree.

Ippi (Bassia longifolia). The tree, and its products, must not be touched.

Ippi (Bassia longifolia). The tree and its products should not be touched.

Mancham (cot). They avoid sleeping on cots.

Mancham (cot). They steer clear of sleeping on cots.

Arigala (Paspalum scrobiculatum). The grain is not used as food.

Arigala (Paspalum scrobiculatum). The grain isn’t used for food.

Chintaginjalu (tamarind seeds). The seeds may not be touched, or used.

Chintaginjalu (tamarind seeds). You shouldn't touch or use the seeds.

Puccha (Citrullus vulgaris; water melon). The fruit may not be eaten.

Puccha (Citrullus vulgaris; watermelon). The fruit shouldn't be eaten.

The Pichigunta vandlu, a class of mendicants who beg chiefly from Kāpus and Gollas, manufacture pedigrees and gōtras for these castes and the Kammas.

The Pichigunta vandlu, a group of beggars who mainly solicit from Kāpus and Gollas, create genealogies and gōtras for these castes and the Kammas.

Concerning the origin of the Kāpus, the following legend is current. During the reign of Pratāpa Rudra, the wife of one Belthi Reddi secured by severe penance a brilliant ear ornament (kamma) from the sun. This was stolen by the King’s minister, as the King was very anxious to secure it for his wife. Belthi Reddi’s wife told her sons to recover it, but her eldest son refused to have anything to do with the matter, as the King was involved in it. The second son likewise refused, [232]and used foul language. The third son promised to secure it, and, hearing this, one of his brothers ran away. Finally the ornament was recovered by the youngest son. The Panta Kāpus are said to be descended from the eldest son, the Pākanātis from the second, the Velamas from the son who ran away, and the Kammas from the son who secured the jewel.

Concerning the origin of the Kāpus, the following legend is current. During the reign of Pratāpa Rudra, the wife of a man named Belthi Reddi obtained a brilliant ear ornament (kamma) from the sun through intense penance. This ornament was stolen by the King’s minister, as the King wanted it for his wife. Belthi Reddi’s wife instructed her sons to retrieve it, but her eldest son refused to get involved since the King was part of it. The second son also declined and used rude language. The third son promised to get it back, and when he did, one of his brothers ran away. Ultimately, the youngest son was the one who recovered the ornament. The Panta Kāpus are said to be descended from the eldest son, the Pākanātis from the second, the Velamas from the son who ran away, and the Kammas from the son who retrieved the jewel.

Panta Kāpu.

Panta Kāpu.

Panta Kapu.

The Kāpus are said to have originally dwelt in Ayōdhya. During the reign of Bharata, one Pillala Mari Belthi Reddi and his sons deceived the King by appropriating all the grain to themselves, and giving him the straw. The fraud was detected by Rāma when he assumed charge of the kingdom, and, as a punishment, he ordered the Kāpus to bring Cucurbita (pumpkin) fruits for the srādh (death ceremony) of Dasarātha. They accordingly cultivated the plant, but, before the ceremony took place, all the plants were uprooted by Hanumān, and no fruits were forthcoming. In lieu thereof, they promised to offer gold equal in weight to that of the pumpkin, and brought all of which they were possessed. This they placed in the scales, but it was not sufficient to counterbalance a pumpkin against which it was weighed. To make up the deficiency in weight, the Kāpu women removed their bottus (marriage badges), and placed them in the scales. Since that time women of the Mōtāti and Pedakanti sections have substituted a cotton string dyed with turmeric for the bottu. It is worthy of notice that a similar legend is current among the Vakkaligas (cultivators) of Mysore, who, instead of giving up the bottu, seem to have abandoned the cultivation of the Cucurbita plant. The exposure of the fraud led Belthi Reddi to leave Ayōdhya with one of his wives and seventy-seven children, leaving behind thirteen wives. In the course of their journey, they had [233]to cross the Silānadi (petrifying river), and, if they passed through the water, they would have become petrified. So they went to a place called Dhonakonda, and, after worshipping Ganga, the head of the idol was cut off, and brought to the river bank. The waters, like those of the Red Sea in the time of Pharaoh, were divided, and the Kāpus crossed on dry ground. In commemoration of this event, the Kāpus still worship Ganga during their marriage ceremonies. After crossing the river, the travellers came to the temple of Mallikarjuna, and helped the Jangams in the duties of looking after it. Some time afterwards the Jangams left the place for a time, and placed the temple in charge of the Kāpus. On their return, the Kāpus refused to hand over charge to them, and it was decided that whoever should go to Nāgalōkam (the abode of snakes), and bring back Nāga Malligai (jasmine from snake-land), should be considered the rightful owner of the temple. The Jangams, who were skilled in the art of transformation, leaving their mortal frames, went in search of the flower in the guise of spirits. Taking advantage of this, the Kāpus burnt the bodies of the Jangams, and, when the spirits returned, there were no bodies for them to enter. Thereon the god of the temple became angry, and transformed the Jangams into crows, which attacked the Kāpus, who fled to the country of Oraganti Pratāpa Rudra. As this King was a Sakti worshipper, the crows ceased to harass the Kāpus, who settled down as cultivators. Of the produce of the land, nine-tenths were to be given to the King, and the Kāpus were to keep a tithe. At this time the wife of Belthi Reddi was pregnant, and she asked her sons what they would give to the son who was about to be born. They all promised to give him half their earnings. The child grew into a learned man and poet, and one day carried [234]water to the field where his brothers were at work. The vessel containing the water was only a small one, and there was not enough water for all. But he prayed to Sarasvati, with whose aid the vessel was always filled up. Towards evening, the grain collected during the day was heaped together, with a view to setting apart the share for the King. But a dispute arose among the brothers, and it was decided that only a tithe should be given to him. The King, being annoyed with the Kāpus for not giving him his proper share, waited for an opportunity to bring disgrace on Belthi Reddi, and sought the assistance of a Jangam, who managed to become the servant of Belthi Reddi’s wife. After some time, he picked up her kamma when it fell off while she was asleep, and handed it over to Pratāpa Rudra, who caused it to be proclaimed that he had secured the ornament as a preliminary to securing the person of its owner. The eldest son of Belthi Reddi, however, recovered the kamma in a fight with the King, during which he carried his youngest brother on his back. From him the Kammas are descended. The Velamas are descended from the sons who ran away, and the Kāpus from those who would neither fight nor run away.

The Kāpus are said to have originally lived in Ayodhya. During Bharata's reign, a man named Pillala Mari Belthi Reddi and his sons tricked the King by keeping all the grain for themselves and giving him only the straw. Rāma discovered the fraud when he took over the kingdom and punished the Kāpus by asking them to bring Cucurbita (pumpkin) fruits for the srādh (death ceremony) for Dasaratha. They managed to cultivate the plant, but before the ceremony, Hanumān uprooted all the plants, and there were no fruits to offer. Instead, they promised to give gold equal to the weight of the pumpkin and brought everything they had. They placed it on the scales, but it wasn’t enough to match the weight of a pumpkin. To make up the difference, the Kāpu women took off their bottus (marriage badges) and added them to the scales. Since then, women from the Mōtāti and Pedakanti sections have used a cotton string dyed with turmeric in place of the bottu. Interestingly, a similar story exists among the Vakkaligas (cultivators) of Mysore, who seem to have stopped growing the Cucurbita plant instead of giving up the bottu. The exposure of the trick led Belthi Reddi to leave Ayodhya with one of his wives and seventy-seven children, abandoning thirteen wives behind. During their journey, they had to cross the Silānadi (petrifying river), which would petrify them if they passed through the water. They went to a place called Dhonakonda, and after worshipping Ganga, they cut off the head of the idol and brought it to the riverbank. The waters, like those of the Red Sea in Pharaoh's time, parted, allowing the Kāpus to cross on dry land. In memory of this event, the Kāpus still worship Ganga during their wedding ceremonies. After crossing the river, they arrived at the temple of Mallikarjuna and assisted the Jangams in caring for it. Later, the Jangams left temporarily, entrusting the temple to the Kāpus. Upon returning, the Kāpus refused to give it back. It was established that whoever could go to Nāgalōkam (the snake realm) and bring back Nāga Malligai (jasmine from snake-land) would be the rightful owner of the temple. The Jangams, skilled in transformation, left their mortal bodies and searched for the flower in spirit form. Taking advantage of this, the Kāpus burned the Jangams' bodies, and when the spirits returned, there were no bodies for them to re-enter. The temple deity then became angry and turned the Jangams into crows, which attacked the Kāpus, forcing them to flee to the country of Oraganti Pratāpa Rudra. As this King was a devotee of Shakti, the crows stopped bothering the Kāpus, who then settled as cultivators. From the land's produce, nine-tenths were to be given to the King while the Kāpus kept a tenth. At that time, Belthi Reddi’s wife was pregnant, and she asked her sons what they would give to the son about to be born. They all promised to give him half of their earnings. The child grew up to be a learned man and poet, and one day he carried [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] water to the field where his brothers worked. The container was small, and there wasn’t enough water for everyone. However, he prayed to Sarasvati, and with her help, the container always filled up. By evening, the grain collected during the day was piled up to set aside the King’s share, but a dispute erupted among the brothers, leading to the decision that only a tenth should be given to him. The King, annoyed with the Kāpus for not giving him his due share, waited for a chance to disgrace Belthi Reddi and sought help from a Jangam, who managed to become a servant of Belthi Reddi’s wife. Eventually, he picked up her kamma when it fell while she was asleep and gave it to Pratāpa Rudra, who announced that he had obtained the ornament as a prelude to claiming its owner. However, Belthi Reddi’s eldest son recovered the kamma during a fight with the King while carrying his youngest brother on his back. From him, the Kammas are descended. The Velamas descend from the sons who fled, while the Kāpus come from those who neither fought nor ran away.

Pollution at the first menstrual ceremony lasts, I am informed, for sixteen days. Every day, both morning and evening, a dose of gingelly (Sesamum) oil is administered to the girl, and, if it produces much purging, she is treated with buffalo ghī (clarified butter). On alternate days water is poured over her head, and from the neck downwards. The cloth which she wears, whether new or old, becomes the property of the washerwoman. On the first day the meals consist of milk and dhāl (Cajanus indicus), but on subsequent days cakes, etc., are allowed. [235]

Pollution during the first menstrual ceremony lasts, I've been told, for sixteen days. Each day, both in the morning and evening, the girl is given a dose of sesame oil (Sesamum), and if it causes significant purging, she is treated with buffalo ghee (clarified butter). Every other day, water is poured over her head and down her neck. The cloth she wears, whether it's new or old, becomes the property of the washerwoman. On the first day, her meals consist of milk and lentils (Cajanus indicus), but on the following days, cakes and other foods are allowed. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In their marriage ceremonial, the Panta Reddis of the South Arcot and Salem districts appear to follow the Brāhmanical form. In the Telugu country, however, it is as follows. On the pradhānam or betrothal day, the party of the bridegroom-elect go in procession under a canopy (ulladam), attended by musicians, and matrons carrying betel, cocoanuts, date and plantain fruits, and turmeric on plates. As soon as they have arrived at the courtyard of the future bride’s house, she seats herself on a plank. A Brāhman purōhit moulds a little turmeric paste into a conical mass representing Vignēswara (the elephant god), and it is worshipped by the girl, in front of whom the trays brought by the women are placed. She is presented with a new cloth, which she puts on, and a near female relation gives her three handfuls of areca nuts, a few betel leaves, and the bride-price and jewels tied up in a turmeric-dyed cloth. All these things the girl deposits in her lap. The fathers of the contracting couple then exchange betel, with the customary formula. “The girl is yours, and the money mine” and “The money is yours, and the girl mine.” Early on the wedding morning the bridegroom’s party, accompanied by a purōhit and washerman (Tsākala), go to fetch the bride from her house. The milk-post is set up, and is usually made of a branch of Mimusops hexandra or, in the Tamil country, Odina Wodier. On the conclusion of the marriage rites, the Odina post is planted in the backyard, and, if it takes root and flourishes, it is regarded as a happy omen for the newly married couple. A small party of Kāpus, taking with them some food and gingelly (Sesamum) oil, proceed in procession beneath a canopy to the house of a washerman (Tsākala), in order to obtain from him a framework made of bamboo or sticks over which [236]cotton threads are wound (dhornam), and the Ganga idol, which is kept in his custody. The food is presented to him, and some rice poured into his cloth. Receiving these things, he says that he cannot find the dhornam and idol without a torch-light, and demands gingelly oil. This is given to him, and the Kāpus return with the washerman carrying the dhornam and idol to the marriage house. When they arrive at the entrance thereto, red coloured food, coloured water (ārathi) and incense are waved before the idol, which is taken into a room, and placed on a settle of rice. The washerman is then asked to tie the dhornam to the pandal (marriage booth) or roof of the house, and he demands some paddy, which is heaped up on the ground. Standing thereon, he ties the dhornam. The people next proceed to the houses of the goldsmith and potter, and bring back the bottu (marriage badge) and thirteen marriage pots, on which threads (kankanam) are tied before they are removed. A Brāhman purōhit ties the thread round one pot, and the Kāpus round the rest. The pots are placed in the room along with the Ganga idol. The bottu is tied round the neck of a married woman who is closely related to the bridegroom. The contracting couple are seated with the ends of their clothes tied together. A barber comes with a cup of water, and a tray containing rice dyed with turmeric is placed on the floor. A number of men and women then scatter rice over the heads of the bride and bridegroom, and, after, waving a silver or copper coin in front of them, throw it into the barber’s cup. The barber then pares the finger and toe nails of the bridegroom, and touches the toe nails of the bride with his razor. They then go through the nalagu ceremony, being smeared with oil and Phaseolus Mungo paste, and bathe. After the bath [237]the bridegroom, dressed in his wedding finery, proceeds to the temple. As he leaves the house, a Mādiga hands him a pair of shoes, which he puts on. The Mādiga is given food placed in a basket on eleven leaves. At the temple worship is performed, and a Bhatrāzu (bard and panegyrist), who has accompanied the bridegroom, ties a bāshingham (chaplet) on his forehead. From this moment the Bhatrāzu must remain with the bridegroom, as his personal attendant, painting the sectarian marks on his forehead, and carrying out other functions. In like manner, a Bhōgam woman (dedicated prostitute) waits on the bride. “The tradition,” Mr. Stuart writes, “is that the Bhatrāzus were a northern caste, which was first invited south by king Pratāpa Rudra of the Kshatriya dynasty of Warrangal (1295–1323 A.D.). After the downfall of that kingdom they seem to have become court bards and panegyrists under the Reddi and Velama feudal chiefs.” From the temple the bridegroom and his party come to the marriage pandal, and, after food and other things have been waved to avert the evil eye, he enters the house. On the threshold his brother-in-law washes his feet, and sits thereon till he has extracted some money or a cow as a present. The bridegroom then goes to the marriage dais, whither the bride is conducted, and stands facing him, with a screen interposed between them. Vignēswara is worshipped, and the wrist threads (kankanam) are tied on, the bridegroom placing his right foot on the left foot of the bride. The bottu is removed from the neck of the married woman, passed round to be blessed, and tied by the bridegroom on the bride’s neck. The bride is lifted up by her maternal uncle, and the couple sprinkle each other with rice. The screen is removed, and they sit side by side with the ends of their cloths tied together. Rice is [238]thrown over them by those assembled, and they are made to gaze at the pole star (Arundati). The proceedings terminate by the pair searching for a finger-ring and pap-bowl in one of the pots filled with water. On the second day there is feasting, and the nalagu ceremony is again performed. On the following day, the bridegroom and his party pretend to take offence at some thing which is done by the bride’s people, who follow them with presents, and a reconciliation is speedily effected. Towards evening, a ceremony called nāgavali, or sacrifice to the Dēvatas, is performed. The bridal pair, with the Bhatrāzu and Bhōgam woman, occupy the dais. The Brāhman purōhit places on a tray a conical mass of turmeric representing Vignēswara, to whom pūja (worship) is done. He then places a brass vessel (kalasam) filled with water, and with its mouth closed by a cocoanut, on a settle of rice spread on a tray. The kalasam is worshipped as representing the Dēvatas. The Brāhman invokes the blessing of all the Gods and Dēvatas, saying “Let Siva bless the pair,” “Let Indra bless the pair,” etc. A near relative of the bridegroom sits by the side of the purōhit with plenty of betel leaves and areca nuts. After each God or Dēvata has been mentioned, he throws some of the nuts and leaves into a tray, and, as these are the perquisites of the purōhit, he may repeat the same name three or four times. The Kāpu then makes playful remarks about the greed of the purōhit, and, amid much laughter, refuses to put any more leaves or nuts in the tray. This ceremonial concluded, the near relations of the bridegroom stand in front of him, and, with hands crossed, hold over his head two brass plates, into which a small quantity of milk is poured. Fruit, betel leaves and areca nuts (pān-supāri) are next distributed in a recognised order of [239]precedence. The first presentation is made to the house god, the second to the family priest, and the third to the Brāhman purōhit. If a Pākanāti Kāpu is present, he must receive his share immediately after the Brāhman, and before other Kāpus, Kammas, and others. Before it is presented to each person, the leaves and nuts are touched by the bridegroom, and the hand of the bride is placed on them by the Bhōgam woman. At a Panta Kāpu wedding, the Ganga idol, together with a goat and a kāvadi (bamboo pole with baskets of rice, cakes, betel leaves and areca nuts), is carried in procession to a pond or temple. The washerman, dressed up as a woman, heads the procession, and keeps on dancing and singing till the destination is reached. The idol is placed inside a rude triangular hut made of three sheaves of straw, and the articles brought in the baskets are spread before it. On the heap of rice small lumps of flour paste are placed, and these are made into lights by scooping out cavities, and feeding the wicks with ghī (clarified butter). One of the ears of the goat is then cut, and it is brought near the food. This done, the lights are extinguished, and the assembly returns home without the least noise. The washerman takes charge of the idol, and goes his way. If the wedding is spread over five days, the Ganga idol is removed on the fourth day, and the customary mock-ploughing ceremony performed on the fifth. The marriage ceremonies close with the removal of the threads from the wrists of the newly married couple. Among the Panta Reddis of the Tamil country, the Ganga idol is taken in procession by the washerman two or three days before the marriage, and he goes to every Reddi house, and receives a present of money. The idol is then set up in the verandah, and worshipped daily till the conclusion of the marriage ceremonies. “Among [240]the Reddis of Tinnevelly,” Dr. J. Shortt writes, “a young woman of sixteen or twenty years of age is frequently married to a boy of five or six years, or even of a more tender age. After marriage she, the wife, lives with some other man, a near relative on the maternal side, frequently an uncle, and sometimes with the boy-husband’s own father. The progeny so begotten are affiliated on the boy-husband. When he comes of age, he finds his wife an old woman, and perhaps past child-bearing. So he, in his turn, contracts a liaison with some other boy’s wife, and procreates children.” The custom has doubtless been adopted in imitation of the Maravans, Kallans, Agamudaiyans, and other castes, among whom the Reddis have settled. In an account of the Ayōdhya Reddis of Tinnevelly, Mr. Stuart writes that it is stated that “the tāli is peculiar, consisting of a number of cotton threads besmeared with turmeric, without any gold ornament. They have a proverb that he who went forth to procure a tāli and a cloth never returned.” This proverb is based on the following legend. In days of yore a Reddi chief was about to be married, and he accordingly sent for a goldsmith, and, desiring him to make a splendid tāli, gave him the price of it in advance. The smith was a drunkard, and neglected his work. The day for the celebration of the marriage arrived, but there was no tāli. Whereupon the old chief, plucking a few threads from his garment, twisted them into a cord, and tied it round the neck of the bride, and this became a custom.110

In their marriage ceremonies, the Panta Reddis from the South Arcot and Salem districts seem to follow the Brāhmanical form. However, in the Telugu region, it goes like this: On the pradhānam or betrothal day, the groom's party processes under a canopy (ulladam), accompanied by musicians and women carrying betel, coconuts, dates, plantains, and turmeric on plates. Once they arrive at the courtyard of the future bride's house, she sits on a plank. A Brāhman purōhit shapes a little turmeric paste into a conical mass representing Vignēswara (the elephant god), which the girl worships, placing the trays brought by the women in front of her. She is given a new cloth, which she wears, and a close female relative gives her three handfuls of areca nuts, some betel leaves, and the bride-price and jewels wrapped in a turmeric-dyed cloth. The girl keeps all these items in her lap. The fathers of the couple then exchange betel using the customary phrases: “The girl is yours, and the money mine” and “The money is yours, and the girl mine.” On the morning of the wedding, the groom's party, along with a purōhit and a washerman (Tsākala), goes to fetch the bride from her house. A milk-post is set up, usually made from a branch of Mimusops hexandra or, in Tamil Nadu, Odina Wodier. After the marriage rites are completed, the Odina post is planted in the backyard, and if it takes root and thrives, it is seen as a good omen for the newlyweds. A small group of Kāpus, carrying food and gingelly (Sesamum) oil, proceed in procession beneath a canopy to the house of the washerman (Tsākala) to get a bamboo or stick framework over which [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]cotton threads are wound (dhornam), along with the Ganga idol that he keeps. They present him with the food, and some rice is poured into his cloth. He says he cannot find the dhornam and idol without a torch, and asks for gingelly oil. After receiving it, the Kāpus return with the washerman carrying the dhornam and idol to the wedding house. Upon their arrival at the entrance, red food, colored water (ārathi), and incense are waved before the idol, which is taken into a room and placed on a bed of rice. The washerman is then asked to tie the dhornam to the pandal (marriage booth) or the house roof, requesting some paddy, which is piled on the ground. Standing on it, he ties the dhornam. Next, the group goes to the goldsmith and potter's houses and brings back the bottu (marriage badge) and thirteen marriage pots, on which threads (kankanam) are tied before they are removed. A Brāhman purōhit ties the thread around one pot, while the Kāpus do so for the rest. The pots are placed in the room with the Ganga idol. The bottu is tied around the neck of a married woman closely related to the groom. The couple is seated with the ends of their clothes tied together. A barber arrives with a cup of water, and a tray of rice dyed with turmeric is placed on the floor. Then, a number of men and women scatter rice over the heads of the bride and groom, and after waving a silver or copper coin in front of them, throw it into the barber’s cup. The barber trims the bridegroom's finger and toe nails, lightly touching the bride's toe nails with his razor. They participate in the nalagu ceremony, being smeared with oil and Phaseolus Mungo paste, and then bathe. After bathing, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the groom, dressed in his wedding attire, goes to the temple. As he leaves his house, a Mādiga hands him a pair of shoes, which he puts on, and the Mādiga is given food in a basket on eleven leaves. At the temple, worship is performed, and a Bhatrāzu (bard and panegyrist), who has accompanied the groom, ties a bāshingham (chaplet) on his forehead. From that moment on, the Bhatrāzu must stay with the groom as his personal attendant, painting sectarian marks on his forehead and fulfilling other duties. Similarly, a Bhōgam woman (dedicated prostitute) attends to the bride. “Traditionally,” Mr. Stuart notes, “the Bhatrāzus were a northern caste that was first invited south by King Pratāpa Rudra of the Kshatriya dynasty of Warrangal (1295–1323 A.D.). After the fall of that kingdom, they seemed to have become court bards and panegyrists under the Reddi and Velama feudal chiefs.” After the temple, the groom and his party head to the marriage pandal, and after food and other items have been waved to ward off the evil eye, he enters the house. At the threshold, his brother-in-law washes his feet and waits there until he gives him some money or a cow as a gift. The groom then goes to the marriage dais, where the bride is brought in to stand facing him across a screen. Vignēswara is worshipped, and the wrist threads (kankanam) are tied on, with the groom placing his right foot on the bride's left foot. The bottu is removed from the neck of the married woman, passed around for blessings, and then tied by the groom around the bride's neck. The bride is lifted by her maternal uncle, and the couple sprinkle each other with rice. The screen is removed, and they sit side by side with their cloth ends tied together. Rice is [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]thrown over them by those present, and they are made to look at the pole star (Arundati). The ceremony ends with the pair searching for a finger-ring and pap-bowl in one of the pots filled with water. On the second day, there is feasting, and the nalagu ceremony is performed again. On the next day, the groom's party pretends to take offense at something done by the bride's family, who follow them with gifts, leading to a quick reconciliation. In the evening, a ritual called nāgavali, or sacrifice to the Dēvatas, is performed. The bridal couple, along with the Bhatrāzu and Bhōgam woman, occupy the dais. The Brāhman purōhit places a conical mass of turmeric representing Vignēswara on a tray, and pūja (worship) is done. He then places a brass vessel (kalasam) filled with water, sealed with a coconut, on a bed of rice on a tray. The kalasam is worshipped as representing the Dēvatas. The Brāhman invokes blessings from all Gods and Dēvatas, saying “Let Siva bless the pair,” “Let Indra bless the pair,” and so forth. A close relative of the groom sits next to the purōhit with a lot of betel leaves and areca nuts. After each God or Dēvata is mentioned, he throws some nuts and leaves into a tray, which are the purōhit's fees, and he might repeat the name three or four times. The Kāpu then makes light-hearted comments about the purōhit's greed, and amid laughter, refuses to add any more leaves or nuts to the tray. Once this ceremony is done, the groom's close relatives stand in front of him, crossing their hands over his head and holding up two brass plates, into which a small amount of milk is poured. Fruit, betel leaves, and areca nuts (pān-supāri) are then distributed in a recognized order of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]priority. The first is offered to the house god, the second to the family priest, and the third to the Brāhman purōhit. If a Pākanāti Kāpu is present, he must receive his share right after the Brāhman and before other Kāpus, Kammas, and others. Before each person receives it, the bridegroom touches the leaves and nuts, and the Bhōgam woman places the bride's hand on them. At a Panta Kāpu wedding, the Ganga idol, along with a goat and a kāvadi (bamboo pole with baskets of rice, cakes, betel leaves, and areca nuts), is carried in procession to a pond or temple. The washerman, dressed as a woman, leads the procession, dancing and singing until they arrive. The idol is placed inside a simple triangular hut made from three sheaves of straw, and the items in the baskets are spread out in front of it. Small lumps of flour paste are placed on the heap of rice, and these are made into lights by scooping out holes for wicks and feeding them with ghī (clarified butter). One of the goat's ears is then cut, and it is brought near the food. After this, the lights are put out, and the attendees quietly return home. The washerman takes charge of the idol, going on his way. If the wedding lasts five days, the Ganga idol is removed on the fourth day, with the customary mock-ploughing ceremony conducted on the fifth. The wedding ceremonies conclude with the removal of the threads from the wrists of the newlyweds. Among the Panta Reddis of Tamil Nadu, the Ganga idol is paraded by the washerman two or three days before the wedding, during which he visits every Reddi household and receives a cash gift. The idol is then set up in the verandah and worshipped daily until the marriage ceremonies are completed. “Among [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the Reddis of Tinnevelly,” Dr. J. Shortt observes, “a young woman, aged sixteen to twenty, is often married to a boy aged five or six, or even younger. After marriage, she, the wife, lives with another man, usually a close maternal relative, often an uncle, and sometimes with the boy-husband’s own father. Any children born from this are considered the boy's. When he reaches maturity, he may find his wife to be an older woman, possibly past childbearing. So, he, in turn, starts a liaison with another boy’s wife and has children.” This custom has likely been adopted from the Maravans, Kallans, Agamudaiyans, and other castes among whom the Reddis have settled. In a description of the Ayōdhya Reddis of Tinnevelly, Mr. Stuart notes that “the tāli is unique, consisting of several cotton threads smeared with turmeric, without any gold ornament. They have a saying that the man sent to get a tāli and a cloth never came back.” This saying is based on a legend. Long ago, a Reddi chief was about to marry and called for a goldsmith, giving him the advance payment to make an exquisite tāli. The smith, being a drunkard, neglected his task. As the wedding day arrived, there was no tāli. The old chief, plucking a few threads from his garment, twisted them into a cord and tied it around the bride's neck, establishing this as a custom. 110

Kāpu Bride and Bridegroom.

Kāpu Bride and Bridegroom.

Kāpu couple.

In the Census Report, 1891, Mr. Stuart states that he was informed that polyandry of the fraternal type exists among the Panta Kāpus, but the statement [241]requires verification. I am unable to discover any trace of this custom, and it appears that Reddi Yānādis are employed by Panta Reddis as domestic servants. If a Reddi Yānādi’s husband dies, abandons, or divorces his wife, she may marry his brother. And, in the case of separation or divorce, the two brothers will live on friendly terms with each other.

In the Census Report of 1891, Mr. Stuart mentions that he heard that fraternal polyandry exists among the Panta Kāpus, but that claim [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] needs to be confirmed. I can't find any evidence of this practice, and it seems that Reddi Yānādis work as domestic helpers for Panta Reddis. If a Reddi Yānādi's husband dies, leaves, or divorces her, she can marry his brother. In cases of separation or divorce, the two brothers remain on good terms.

In the Indian Law Reports111 it is noted that the custom of illatom,112 or affiliation of a son-in-law, obtains among the Mōtāti Kāpus in Bellary and Kurnool, and the Pedda Kāpus in Nellore. He who has at the time no son, although he may have more than one daughter, and whether or not he is hopeless of having male issue, may exercise the right of taking an illatom son-in-law. For the purposes of succession this son-in-law stands in the place of a son, and, in competition with natural-born sons, takes an equal share.113

In the Indian Law Reports111, it is noted that the custom of illatom,112 or taking in a son-in-law, exists among the Mōtāti Kāpus in Bellary and Kurnool, and the Pedda Kāpus in Nellore. A man who has no son at the time, even if he has more than one daughter, and regardless of whether he thinks he will have male children, can choose to take an illatom son-in-law. For purposes of inheritance, this son-in-law is treated like a son and shares equally with biological sons.113

According to the Kurnool Manual (1886), “the Pakanādus of Pattikonda and Rāmallakōta tāluks allow a widow to take a second husband from among the caste-men. She can wear no signs of marriage, such as the tāli, glass bangles, and the like, but she as well as her husband is allowed to associate with the other caste-men on equal terms. Their progeny inherit their father’s property equally with children born in regular wedlock, but they generally intermarry with persons similarly circumstanced. Their marriage with the issue of a regularly married couple is, however, not prohibited. It is matter for regret that this privilege of remarrying is [242]much abused, as among the Linga Balijas. Not unfrequently it extends to pregnant widows also, and so widows live in adultery with a caste-man without fear of excommunication, encouraged by the hope of getting herself united to him or some other caste-man in the event of pregnancy. In many cases, caste-men are hired for the purpose of going through the forms of marriage simply to relieve such widows from the penalty of excommunication from caste. The man so hired plays the part of husband for a few days, and then goes away in accordance with his secret contract.” The abuse of widow marriage here referred to is said to be uncommon, though it is sometimes practiced among Kāpus and other castes in out-of-the-way villages. It is further noted in the Kurnool Manual that Pedakanti Kāpu women do not wear the tāli, or a bodice (ravika) to cover their breasts. And the tight-fitting bodice is said114 to be “far less universal in Anantapur than Bellary, and, among some castes (e.g., certain sub-divisions of the Kāpus and Īdigas), it is not worn after the first confinement.”

According to the Kurnool Manual (1886), “the Pakanādus of Pattikonda and Rāmallakōta tāluks permit a widow to remarry someone from her caste. She can't wear traditional signs of marriage, like the tāli or glass bangles, but both she and her new husband are allowed to interact with other caste members as equals. Their children inherit their father's property just like those born in a conventional marriage, but they usually marry others in similar situations. However, their marriage with the offspring of a legally married couple isn't banned. It's unfortunate that this right to remarry is [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] often misused, especially among the Linga Balijas. Often, this includes pregnant widows too, leading to situations where widows engage in affairs with caste men without the fear of being ostracized, encouraged by the hope of marrying that man or another if they become pregnant. In many instances, caste men are hired to perform the marriage rituals just to spare these widows from being cast out of their community. The hired man acts as her husband for a few days and then leaves, as per his secret agreement.” The misuse of widow marriage mentioned here is said to be rare, although it does happen among Kāpus and other castes in remote villages. The Kurnool Manual also notes that Pedakanti Kāpu women don’t wear the tāli or a bodice (ravika) to cover their breasts. Additionally, the tight-fitting bodice is said [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] to be “far less common in Anantapur than in Bellary, and among certain castes (e.g., specific sub-divisions of the Kāpus and Īdigas), it’s not worn after the first childbirth.”

In the disposal of their dead, the rites among the Kāpus of the Telugu country are very similar to those of the Kammas and Balijas. The Panta Reddis of the Tamil country, however, follow the ceremonial in vogue among various Tamil castes. The news of a death in the community is conveyed by a Paraiyan Tōti (sweeper). The dead man’s son receives a measure containing a light from a barber, and goes three times round the corpse. At the burning-ground the barber, instead of the son, goes thrice round the corpse, carrying a pot containing water, and followed by the son, who makes [243]holes therein. The stream of water which trickles out is sprinkled over the corpse. The barber then breaks the pot into very small fragments. If the fragments were large, water might collect in them, and be drunk by birds, which would bring sickness (pakshidhōsham) on children, over whose heads they might pass. On the day after the funeral, a Panisavan or barber extinguishes the fire, and collects the ashes together. A washerman brings a basket containing various articles required for worship, and, after pūja has been performed, a plant of Leucas aspera is placed on the ashes. The bones are collected in a new pot, and thrown into a river, or consigned by parcel-post to an agent at Benares, and thrown into the Ganges.

In disposing of their dead, the rituals among the Kāpus of the Telugu region are very similar to those of the Kammas and Balijas. However, the Panta Reddis of the Tamil region follow the ceremonies practiced among various Tamil castes. The news of a death in the community is communicated by a Paraiyan Tōti (sweeper). The deceased man's son receives a measure with a light from a barber and circles the corpse three times. At the cremation site, the barber, instead of the son, circles the corpse three times while carrying a pot of water, followed by the son, who makes [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]holes in it. The trickling water is sprinkled over the corpse. The barber then breaks the pot into very small pieces. If the pieces were large, water could collect in them and be drunk by birds, potentially causing illness (pakshidhōsham) to children if they flew over them. The day after the funeral, a Panisavan or barber extinguishes the fire and gathers the ashes. A washerman brings a basket with various items needed for worship, and after the pūja is done, a plant of Leucas aspera is placed on the ashes. The bones are collected in a new pot and either thrown into a river or sent by parcel-post to an agent in Benares to be cast into the Ganges.

By religion the Kāpus are both Vaishnavites and Saivites, and they worship a variety of deities, such as Thāllamma, Nāgarapamma, Putlamma, Ankamma, Munēswara, Pōleramma, Dēsamma. To Munēswara and Dēsamma pongal (cooked rice) is offered, and buffaloes are sacrificed to Pōleramma. Even Mātangi, the goddess of the Mādigas, is worshipped by some Kāpus. At purificatory ceremonies a Mādiga Basavi woman, called Mātangi, is sent for, and cleanses the house or its inmates from pollution by sprinkling and spitting out toddy.

By religion, the Kāpus are both Vaishnavites and Saivites, and they worship a variety of deities, such as Thāllamma, Nāgarapamma, Putlamma, Ankamma, Munēswara, Pōleramma, and Dēsamma. They offer pongal (cooked rice) to Munēswara and Dēsamma, and buffaloes are sacrificed to Pōleramma. Some Kāpus also worship Mātangi, the goddess of the Mādigas. During purification ceremonies, a Mādiga Basavi woman, known as Mātangi, is called in to cleanse the house or its occupants from pollution by sprinkling and spitting out toddy.

From an interesting note115 on agricultural ceremonies in the Bellary district, the following extract is taken. “On the first full-moon day in the month of Bhādrapada (September), the agricultural population celebrate a feast called the Jokumāra feast, to appease the rain-god. The Bārikas (women), who are a sub-division of the Kabbēra caste belonging to the Gaurimakkalu section, [244]go round the town or village in which they live, with a basket on their heads containing margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, flowers of various kinds, and holy ashes. They beg alms, especially of the cultivating classes (Kāpus), and, in return for the alms bestowed (usually grain and food), they give some of the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes. The Kāpus take these to their fields, prepare cholam (millet: Sorghum) gruel, mix them with it, and sprinkle the kanji or gruel all round their fields. After this, the Kāpu proceeds to the potter’s kiln, fetches ashes from it, and makes a figure of a human being. This figure is placed prominently in some convenient spot in the field, and is called Jokumāra or rain-god. It is supposed to have the power of bringing down the rain in proper time. The figure is sometimes small, and sometimes big. A second kind of Jokumāra worship is called muddam, or outlining of rude representations of human figures with powdered charcoal. These representations are made in the early morning, before the bustle of the day commences, on the ground at crossroads and along thoroughfares. The Bārikas who draw these figures are paid a small remuneration in money or in kind. The figure represents Jokumāra, who will bring down rain when insulted by people treading on him. Another kind of Jokumāra worship also prevails in this district. When rain fails, the Kāpu females model a figure of a naked human being of small size. They place this figure in an open mock palanquin, and go from door to door singing indecent songs, and collecting alms. They continue this procession for three or four days, and then abandon the figure in a field adjacent to the village. The Mālas then take possession of this abandoned Jokumāra, and in their turn go about singing indecent songs and collecting alms for three or [245]four days, and then throw it away in some jungle. This form of Jokumāra worship is also believed to bring down plenty of rain. There is another simple superstition among these Kāpu females. When rain fails, the Kāpu females catch hold of a frog, and tie it alive to a new winnowing fan made of bamboo. On this fan, leaving the frog visible, they spread a few margosa leaves, and go singing from door to door ‘Lady frog must have her bath. Oh! rain-god, give a little water for her at least.’ This means that the drought has reached such a stage that there is not even a drop of water for the frogs. When the Kāpu woman sings this song, the woman of the house brings a little water in a vessel, pours it over the frog which is left on the fan outside the door, and gives some alms. The woman of the house is satisfied that such an action will soon bring down rain in torrents.”

From an interesting note115 on agricultural ceremonies in the Bellary district, the following extract is taken. “On the first full-moon day of Bhādrapada (September), the farming community celebrates a feast called the Jokumāra feast to honor the rain-god. The Bārikas (women), a subgroup of the Kabbēra caste from the Gaurimakkalu section, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]walk around their town or village with a basket on their heads filled with margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, various flowers, and holy ashes. They ask for alms, primarily from the farming community (Kāpus), and in return for the donations (usually grain and food), they give some of the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes. The Kāpus take these to their fields, prepare cholam (millet: Sorghum) gruel, mix them in, and sprinkle the mixture around their fields. After this, the Kāpu goes to the potter’s kiln, retrieves ashes from there, and shapes them into a figure of a human being. This figure is placed prominently in a suitable spot in the field, known as Jokumāra or the rain-god. It is believed to attract rain at the right time. The figure can be small or large. Another form of Jokumāra worship is called muddam, where crude representations of human figures are outlined with powdered charcoal. These figures are created in the early morning before daily activities begin, on the ground at crossroads and along main roads. The Bārikas who create these figures receive a small payment in cash or goods. The figure represents Jokumāra, believed to summon rain when people insult it by stepping on it. A different type of Jokumāra worship is also practiced in this district. When rain is scarce, the Kāpu women create a small, naked human figure. They place this figure in a makeshift palanquin and go door-to-door singing risqué songs while collecting alms. This procession lasts three or four days, after which they leave the figure in a nearby field. The Mālas then take over this abandoned Jokumāra and continue the tradition by singing indecent songs and collecting alms for another three or four days before discarding it in the jungle. This form of Jokumāra worship is also believed to bring much-needed rain. There's another simple superstition among these Kāpu women. When rain is absent, they catch a frog and tie it alive to a new bamboo winnowing fan. On this fan, keeping the frog visible, they spread a few margosa leaves and go door-to-door singing, ‘Lady frog must have her bath. Oh! rain-god, provide at least a little water for her.’ This implies that the drought has become so severe that there's not even a drop of water for frogs. When the Kāpu woman sings this song, the lady of the house brings a little water in a vessel, pours it over the frog left on the fan outside the door, and gives some alms. The housewife believes this act will soon bring down a downpour.”

In the Kāpu community, women play an important part, except in matters connected with agriculture. This is accounted for by a story to the effect that, when they came from Ayōdhya, the Kāpus brought no women with them, and sought the assistance of the gods in providing them with wives. They were told to marry women who were the illegitimate issue of Pāndavas, and the women consented on the understanding that they were to be given the upper hand, and that menial service, such as husking paddy (rice), cleaning vessels, and carrying water, should be done for them. They accordingly employ Gollas and Gamallas, and, in the Tamil country, Pallis as domestic servants. Mālas and Mādigas freely enter Kāpu houses for the purpose of husking paddy, but are not allowed into the kitchen, or room in which the household gods are worshipped.

In the Kāpu community, women play a significant role, except when it comes to agriculture. This is explained by a story that says when they arrived from Ayōdhya, the Kāpus didn't bring any women with them and asked the gods to help them find wives. They were advised to marry women who were the illegitimate offspring of the Pāndavas, and the women agreed on the condition that they would have the upper hand, and that tasks like husking rice, cleaning dishes, and fetching water would be done for them. As a result, they hire Gollas and Gamallas, and in Tamil Nadu, Pallis as domestic helpers. Mālas and Mādigas often come into Kāpu homes to husk rice, but they're not allowed in the kitchen or the room where the household gods are worshipped.

In some Kāpu houses, bundles of ears of paddy may be seen hung up as food for sparrows, which are held [246]in esteem. The hopping of sparrows is said to resemble the gait of a person confined in fetters, and there is a legend that the Kāpus were once in chains, and the sparrows set them at liberty, and took the bondage on themselves.

In some Kāpu houses, you might see bundles of rice ears hung up as food for sparrows, which are appreciated. The way sparrows hop is said to look like someone walking with shackles, and there's a legend that the Kāpus were once in chains, and the sparrows freed them, taking the chains upon themselves.

It has been noted116 by Mr. C. K. Subbha Rao, of the Agricultural Department, that the Reddis and others, who migrated southward from the Telugu country, “occupy the major portion of the black cotton soil of the Tamil country. There is a strange affinity between the Telugu cultivators and black cotton soil; so much so that, if a census was taken of the owners of such soil in the Tamil districts of Coimbatore, Trichinopoly, Madura, and Tinnevelly, ninety per cent, would no doubt prove to be Vadugars (northerners), or the descendants of Telugu immigrants. So great is the attachment of the Vadugan to the black cotton soil that the Tamilians mock him by saying that, when god offered paradise to the Vadugan, the latter hesitated, and enquired whether there was black cotton soil there.”

It has been noted116 by Mr. C. K. Subbha Rao from the Agricultural Department that the Reddis and others who moved south from the Telugu region “make up a large part of the black cotton soil in the Tamil region. There is a unique connection between Telugu farmers and black cotton soil; in fact, if a census were conducted of the owners of such soil in the Tamil districts of Coimbatore, Trichinopoly, Madura, and Tinnevelly, ninety percent would likely be Vadugars (northerners) or the descendants of Telugu immigrants. The attachment of the Vadugan to the black cotton soil is so strong that Tamilians tease him by saying that when God offered him paradise, he hesitated and asked if there was black cotton soil there.”

In a note on the Pongala or Pōkanāti and Panta Reddis of the Trichinopoly district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows. “Both speak Telugu, but they differ from each other in their customs, live in separate parts of the country, and will neither intermarry nor interdine. The Reddis will not eat on equal terms with any other Sūdra caste, and will accept separate meals only from the vegetarian section of the Vellālas. They are generally cultivators, but they had formerly rather a bad reputation for crime, and it is said that some of them are receivers of stolen property. Like various other castes, they have beggars, called Bavani Nāyakkans, [247]attached to them, who beg from no other caste, and whose presence is necessary when they worship their caste goddess. The Chakkiliyans are also attached to them, and play a prominent part in the marriages of the Panta sub-division. Formerly, a Chakkiliyan was deputed to ascertain the status of the other party before the match was arranged, and his dreams were considered as omens of its desirability. He was also honoured at the marriage by being given the first betel and nuts. Nowadays he precedes the bridegroom’s party with a basket of fruit, to announce its coming. A Chakkiliyan is also often deputed to accompany a woman on a journey. The caste goddess of the Reddis is Yellamma, whose temple is at Esanai in Perambalūr, and she is reverenced by both Pantas and Pongalas. The latter observe rather gruesome rites, including the drinking of a kid’s blood. The Pantas also worship Rengayiamman and Pōlayamman with peculiar ceremonies. The women are the principal worshippers, and, on one of the nights after Pongal, they unite to do reverence to these goddesses, a part of the ritual consisting in exposing their persons. With this may be compared the Sevvaipillayar rite celebrated in honour of Ganēsa by Vellāla woman (see Vellāla). Both divisions of Reddis wear the sacred thread at funerals. Neither of them allow divorcées or widows to marry again. The women of the two divisions can be easily distinguished by their appearance. The Panta Reddis wear a characteristic gold ear-ornament called kammal, a flat nose-ring studded with inferior rubies, and a golden wire round the neck, on which both the tāli and the pottu are tied. They are of fairer complexion than the Pongala women. The Panta women are allowed a great deal of freedom, which is usually ascribed to their dancing-girl origin, and are said to rule [248]their husbands in a manner rare in other castes. They are often called dēvadiya (dancing-girl) Reddis, and it is said that, though the men of the caste receive hospitality from the Reddis of the north country, their women are not invited. Their chastity is said to be frail, and their lapses easily condoned by their husbands. The Pongalas are equally lax about their wives, but are said to rigorously expel girls or widows who misconduct themselves, and their seducers as well. However, the Panta men and women treat each other with a courtesy that is probably to be found in no other caste, rising and saluting each other, whatever their respective ages, whenever they meet. The purification ceremony for a house defiled by the unchastity of a maid or widow is rather an elaborate affair. Formerly a Kolakkāran (huntsman), a Tottiyan, a priest of the village goddess, a Chakkiliyan, and a Bavani Nāyakkan had to be present. The Tottiyan is now sometimes dispensed with. The Kolakkāran and the Bavani Nāyakkan burn some kāmācchi grass (Andropogon Schœnanthus), and put the ashes in three pots of water. The Tottiyan then worships Pillayar (Ganēsa) in the form of some turmeric, and pours the turmeric into the water. The members of the polluted household then sit in a circle, while the Chakkiliyan carries a black kid round the circle. He is pursued by the Bavani Nāyakkan, and both together cut off the animal’s head, and bury it. The guilty parties have then to tread on the place where the head is buried, and the turmeric and ash water is poured over them. This ceremony rather resembles the one performed by the Ūrālis. The Pantas are said to have no caste panchāyats (council), whereas the Pongalas recognise the authority of officers called Kambalakkārans and Kottukkārans who uphold the discipline.” [249]

In a note on the Pongala or Pōkanāti and Panta Reddis of the Trichinopoly district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows: “Both speak Telugu, but they differ in their customs, live in separate areas, and neither intermarry nor share meals. The Reddis refuse to eat alongside any other Sūdra caste and will only accept separate meals from the vegetarian section of the Vellālas. They primarily work in agriculture, but they used to have a bad reputation for crime, and it's said that some of them deal in stolen goods. Like various other castes, they have their own beggars, called Bavani Nāyakkans, who only beg from their caste and are necessary during worship of their caste goddess. The Chakkiliyans are also part of their community and play a significant role in Panta sub-division marriages. In the past, a Chakkiliyan was sent to verify the status of the other party before a match was arranged, and his dreams were seen as omens of compatibility. He was honored at the wedding with the first betel and nuts. Nowadays, he leads the bridegroom's party with a basket of fruit to announce their arrival. A Chakkiliyan is often tasked with accompanying a woman on a journey. The Reddis' caste goddess is Yellamma, whose temple is in Esanai, Perambalūr, and she is revered by both Pantas and Pongalas. The Pongalas observe rather gruesome rituals, including drinking a kid's blood. The Pantas also worship Rengayiamman and Pōlayamman with unique ceremonies. Women are the primary worshippers, and on one of the nights after Pongal, they come together to honor these goddesses, which includes exposing their bodies as part of the ritual. This can be compared to the Sevvaipillayar rite celebrated in honor of Ganēsa by Vellāla women (see Vellāla). Both divisions of Reddis wear the sacred thread at funerals. Neither allows divorced or widowed individuals to remarry. The women from the two divisions can be easily told apart by their looks. The Panta Reddis wear a distinctive gold ear ornament called kammal, a flat nose-ring set with inferior rubies, and a gold wire around the neck, to which both the tāli and the pottu are tied. They have a lighter complexion than the Pongala women. Panta women enjoy a considerable degree of freedom, often attributed to their dancing-girl background, and they are said to dominate their husbands in a way that is unusual in other castes. They are often referred to as dēvadiya (dancing-girl) Reddis, and while the men of their caste are welcomed by the northern Reddis, their women are not invited. Their chastity is considered weak, and their husbands often overlook their indiscretions. The Pongalas are similarly lenient with their wives but are said to strictly expel any girl or widow who misbehaves, along with their seducers. However, Panta men and women treat each other with a courtesy that seems unique to their caste, greeting and saluting each other regardless of age whenever they meet. The purification ceremony for a household tainted by the indiscretion of a maid or widow is quite elaborate. Traditionally, a Kolakkāran (huntsman), a Tottiyan, a village goddess priest, a Chakkiliyan, and a Bavani Nāyakkkan had to be present, though occasionally the Tottiyan is no longer required. The Kolakkāran and Bavani Nāyakkan burn some kāmācchi grass (*Andropogon Schœnanthus*) and place the ashes in three pots of water. The Tottiyan then worships Pillayar (Ganēsa) in the form of some turmeric and pours it into the water. The members of the polluted household sit in a circle while the Chakkiliyan circles the group with a black kid. He is chased by the Bavani Nāyakkan, and together they cut off the animal's head and bury it. The guilty parties must then step on the spot where the head is buried, and the turmeric and ash water is poured over them. This ceremony is somewhat similar to the one performed by the Ūrālis. The Pantas reportedly do not have caste panchāyats (councils), while the Pongalas acknowledge the authority of officials called Kambalakkārans and Kottukkārans who uphold discipline.”

The following are some of the proverbs relating to the Kāpus:—

The following are some proverbs related to the Kāpus:—

The Kāpu protects all.

The Kāpu safeguards everyone.

The Kāpu’s difficulties are known only to god.

The Kāpu's struggles are known only to God.

The Kāpu dies from even the want of food.

The Kāpu will die from even a lack of food.

The Kāpu knows not the distinction between daughter and daughter-in-law (i.e., both must work for him).

The Kāpu doesn’t differentiate between daughter and daughter-in-law (i.e., both have to work for him).

The Karnam (village accountant) is the cause of the Kāpu’s death.

The Karnam (village accountant) is responsible for the Kāpu’s death.

The Kāpu goes not to the fort (i.e., into the presence of the Rāja). A modern variant is that the Kāpu goes not to the court (of law).

The Kāpu doesn’t go to the fort (i.e., into the presence of the Rāja). A modern version is that the Kāpu doesn’t go to the court (of law).

While the Kāpu was sluggishly ploughing, thieves stole the rope collars.

While the Kāpu was slowly plowing, thieves stole the rope collars.

The year the Kāpu came in, the famine came too.

The year the Kāpu arrived, the famine came as well.

The Reddis are those who will break open the soil to fill their bellies.

The Reddis are those who will dig into the earth to fill their stomachs.

When the unpracticed Reddi got into a palanquin, it swung from side to side.

When the inexperienced Reddi got into a palanquin, it swayed back and forth.

The Reddi who had never mounted a horse sat with his face to the tail.

The Reddi who had never ridden a horse sat facing the tail.

The Reddi fed his dog like a horse, and barked himself.

The Reddi fed his dog like it was a horse and barked himself.

Kāradhi.—A name sometimes given to Māri Holeyas.

Kāradhi.—A name sometimes used for Māri Holeyas.

Karadi (bear).—An exogamous sept of Tottiyan.

Karadi (bear).—An exogamous clan of Tottiyan.

Kāraikkāt.—Kāraikkāt, Kāraikkātar, or Kārkātta, meaning those who waited for rain, or, according to another version, those who saved or protected the clouds, is an endogamous division of Vellāla. Some Tamil Malayālis, who claim to be Vellālas who emigrated to the hills from Conjeeveram, have, at times of census, returned themselves as Kāraikkaāt Vellālas.

Kāraikkāt.—Kāraikkāt, Kāraikkātar, or Kārkātta, meaning those who waited for rain, or according to another version, those who saved or protected the clouds, is a closed group within the Vellāla community. Some Tamil Malayālis, who say they are Vellālas that moved to the hills from Conjeeveram, have, during census times, identified themselves as Kāraikkaāt Vellālas.

Karaiturai (sea-coast) Vellāla.—A name assumed by some Pattanavans. [250]

Karaiturai (sea-coast) Vellāla.—A name taken by some Pattanavans. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Karaiyālan (ruler of the coast).—A title of Maravans, also taken by some Idaiyans.

Karaiyālan (ruler of the coast).—A title used by the Maravans, which is also adopted by some Idaiyans.

Karaiyān.—A name for Tamil sea-fishermen, who live on the coast (karai). The fishing section of the Palles is known as Palle Kariyālu. See Pattanavan.

Karaiyān.—A term for Tamil fishermen who live along the coast (karai). The fishing community within the Palles is referred to as Palle Kariyālu. See Pattanavan.

Kārālan.—In the Census Report, 1891, the Kārālans (rulers of clouds) are returned as a tribe of hunters and cultivators found in the hills of Salem and South Arcot. In the Report, 1901, Kārālan is given as a synonym for Vellāla in Malabar, and also as a name for Malayālis. At the census, 1901, many of the Malayālis of the Shevaroy hills in the Salem district returned themselves as Vellālas and Kārālans. And the divisions returned by the Kārālans, e.g., Kolli, Pacchai, Periya, and Perianan, connect them with these Malayālis (q.v.).

Kārālan.—In the Census Report of 1891, the Kārālans (rulers of clouds) are listed as a tribe of hunters and farmers found in the hills of Salem and South Arcot. In the 1901 Report, Kārālan is noted as a synonym for Vellāla in Malabar, as well as a name for Malayālis. During the 1901 census, many of the Malayālis from the Shevaroy hills in the Salem district identified themselves as Vellālas and Kārālans. The divisions reported by the Kārālans, e.g., Kolli, Pacchai, Periya, and Perianan, link them to these Malayālis (q.v.).

Karepāku.—Karepāku or Karuvepilai is a name for Koravas, who hawk for sale leaves of the curry-leaf plant (Murraya Kœnigii). Karichcha.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Karepāku.—Karepāku or Karuvepilai is a term for Koravas, who sell leaves of the curry-leaf plant (Murraya Kœnigii). Karichcha.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Karimbarabannaya (sugar-cane sept).—An exogamous sept of Kēlasi.

Karimbarabannaya (sugar-cane sept).—A non-marriageable group of Kēlasi.

Karimpālan.—The Karimpālans are a small hunting and cultivating forest tribe in Malabar. They are “punam (shifting) cultivators, hewers of wood, and collectors of wild pepper, and are found in all the foot hills north of the Camel’s Hump. They wear the kudumi (hair knot), and are said to follow the marumakkatāyam system of inheritance in the female line, but they do not perform the tāli kettu ceremony. They are supposed to have the power of exorcising the demon Karuvilli, possession by whom takes the form of fever.”117 [251]

Karimpālan.—The Karimpālans are a small tribe from Malabar known for hunting and farming in the forests. They practice shifting cultivation, gather firewood, and collect wild pepper, residing in the foothills north of the Camel’s Hump. They wear a hair knot called kudumi and are thought to follow a matrilineal inheritance system, but they do not conduct the tāli kettu ceremony. They are believed to have the ability to exorcise the demon Karuvilli, which is associated with causing fever when possessed by it. 117 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kariya.—A sub-division of Kudubi.

Kariya.—A neighborhood of Kudubi.

Karkadabannaya (scorpion sept).—An exogamous sept of Bant.

Karkadabannaya (scorpion sept).—A non-marriageable group of Bant.

Karkatta.—A synonym of Kāraikāttu Vellāla.

Karkatta.—A synonym of Kāraikāttu Vellāla.

Karna.—A sub-division of Golla, and an exogamous sept of Māla.

Karna.—A subgroup of Golla and a non-marriageable clan of Māla.

Karnabattu.—The Karnabattus, or Karnabhatus, are a Telugu weaving caste, found chiefly in the Godāvari district. The story goes that there once lived a king, who ruled over a portion of the country now included in this district, and was worried by a couple of demons, who carried off some of his subjects for their daily food. The king prayed Siva for deliverance from them, and the god, being gratified at his devotion to him, produced nine persons from his ears, and ordered them to slay the demons. This they did, and their descendants are the Karnabhatus, or ear soldiers. By religion, the Karnabattus are either ordinary Saivites or Lingāyats. When a girl reaches maturity, she remains under a pollution for sixteen days. Early marriage is the rule, and a Brāhman officiates at weddings. The dead, as among other Lingayāts, are buried in a sitting posture. The caste is organised in the same manner as the Sālēs, and, at each place, there is a headman called Kulampedda or Jātipedda, corresponding to the Sēnāpatbi of the Sālēs. They weave coarse cloths, which are inferior in texture to those manufactured by Patta Sālēs and Sīlēvantas.

Karnabattu.—The Karnabattus, or Karnabhatus, are a Telugu weaving community primarily found in the Godāvari district. According to the story, there was once a king who ruled over an area that is now part of this district and was troubled by a couple of demons that kidnapped some of his subjects for their daily meals. The king prayed to Siva for help, and the god, pleased with the king's devotion, created nine people from his ears and instructed them to kill the demons. They succeeded, and their descendants are known as the Karnabhatus, or ear soldiers. The Karnabattus practice either traditional Saivism or Lingayatism. When a girl comes of age, she observes a period of pollution lasting sixteen days. Early marriage is common, and a Brahmin officiates at the weddings. Like other Lingayats, the deceased are buried in a sitting position. The caste is organized similarly to the Sālēs, with each community having a headman called Kulampedda or Jātipedda, which corresponds to the Sēnāpatbi of the Sālēs. They weave coarse cloth, which is of lower quality compared to the fabrics produced by Patta Sālēs and Sīlēvantas.

In a note on the Karnabattus, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes that “though a low caste, they forbid the remarriage of widows. But the remark in the Census Report (1901) that they abstain from meat is not true of the Karnabattus questioned, who admitted that they would eat even pork. Their special deity is Somēsvara, whom they unite to worship on the new-moon day of Pushyam [252](January-February). The god is represented by a mud idol made for the occasion. The pūjāri (priest) throws flowers over it in token of adoration, and sits before it with his hands outstretched and his mouth closed until one of the flowers falls into his hands.”

In a note on the Karnabattus, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes that “even though they are considered a lower caste, they do not allow widows to remarry. However, the statement in the Census Report (1901) claiming that they refrain from eating meat is not accurate for the Karnabattus surveyed, who acknowledged that they would eat even pork. Their primary deity is Somēsvara, which they worship together on the new-moon day of Pushyam [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] (January-February). The god is symbolized by a clay idol made for the occasion. The pūjāri (priest) scatters flowers over it as a sign of reverence and sits in front of it with his hands outstretched and mouth closed until one of the flowers lands in his hands.”

The Karnabattus have no regular caste titles, but sometimes the elders add Ayya or Anna as a suffix to their name.

The Karnabattus don't have standard caste titles, but sometimes the elders attach Ayya or Anna as a suffix to their names.

Karna Sālē.—The Karna Sālēs are a caste of Telugu weavers, who are called Sēniyans in the Tamil country, e.g., at Madura and Tanjore. They seem to have no tradition as to their origin, but the name Karna would seem to have its origin in the legend relating to the Karnabattus. These are, in the community, both Saivites and Vaishnavites, and all members of the Illabaththini sept are Vaishnavites. They are said to have only one gōtra, Kāsi (Benares), and numerous exogamous septs, of which the following are examples:—

Karna Sālē.—The Karna Sālēs are a caste of Telugu weavers, known as Sēniyans in Tamil Nadu, for instance, in Madura and Tanjore. They don’t seem to have a clear tradition about their origin, but the name Karna likely comes from the legend associated with the Karnabattus. Within the community, there are both Saivites and Vaishnavites, and all members of the Illabaththini sept identify as Vaishnavites. They are said to have only one gōtra, Kāsi (Benares), along with several exogamous septs, of which the following are examples:—

  • Vasthrāla, cloth.
  • Rudrākshala, seeds of Elæocarpus Ganitrus.
  • Mandha, village common or herd.
  • Kodavili, sickle.
  • Thādla, rope.
  • Thātichettu, palmyra palm.
  • Dhoddi, court-yard.
  • Thippa, rubbish-heap.

In some places, the office of headman, who is called Setti, is hereditary. He is assisted by a Pedda Kāpu, and Nela Setti, of whom the latter is selected monthly, and derives his name from the Telugu nela (month). In their marriage ceremonial, the Karna Sālēs closely follow the Padma Sālēs, but they have no upanāyanam (sacred thread rite), or Kāsiyathrē (mock pilgrimage to Benares), have twelve pots brought for worship, and no pot-searching.

In some areas, the position of headman, referred to as Setti, is passed down through families. He is supported by a Pedda Kāpu and a Nela Setti, the latter of whom is chosen each month, with his name coming from the Telugu word nela (month). During their wedding ceremonies, the Karna Sālēs closely follow the Padma Sālēs, but they do not have an upanāyanam (sacred thread rite) or Kāsiyathrē (mock pilgrimage to Benares). Instead, they bring twelve pots for worship and do not practice pot-searching.

As among other Telugu castes, when a girl reaches puberty, twigs of Strychnos Nux-vomica are placed in the [253]special hut erected for the occasion. On the third or fifth day, the girl’s relations come to her house under a cloth canopy (ulladam), carrying rice soaked in jaggery (crude sugar) water. This rice is called dhadibiyam (wet rice), and is placed in a heap, and, after the waving of coloured water, distributed, with pān-supāri (betel leaves and areca nuts), among those present.

As with other Telugu castes, when a girl hits puberty, twigs from Strychnos Nux-vomica are placed in the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]special hut set up for the occasion. On the third or fifth day, the girl's relatives come to her house under a cloth canopy (ulladam), carrying rice soaked in jaggery (unrefined sugar) water. This rice is known as dhadibiyam (wet rice) and is piled up. After waving colored water, it is distributed, along with pān-supāri (betel leaves and areca nuts), among those present.

The dead are carried to the burial-ground in a car, and buried, after the manner of Lingāyats, in a sitting posture. Jangams officiate at funerals.

The deceased are transported to the cemetery in a vehicle and laid to rest, according to Lingāyat customs, in a seated position. Jangams preside over the funerals.

The caste deity is Somēsvara. Some Karna Sālēs wear the lingam, but are not particular about keeping it on their person, leaving it in the house, and wearing it when at meals, and on important occasions. Concerning the Lingāyat section of the community, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, as follows.118 “The Lingāyats resemble the Linga Balijas in all their customs, in all respects, except that they recognise sūtakam, or pollution, and bathe to remove it. They freely eat in the houses of all Linga Balijas, but the latter will not eat with them. They entirely disregard the spiritual authority of the Brāhmans, recognising priests among the Linga Balijas, Jangams, or Pandārams. In the exercise of their trade, they are distinguished from the Kaikōlans in that they sometimes weave in silk, which the Kaikōlans never do.” Like the Padma Sālēs, the Karna Sālēs usually only weave coarse cotton cloths.

The caste deity is Somēsvara. Some Karna Sālēs wear the lingam but aren't strict about keeping it on them; they leave it at home and wear it during meals and on special occasions. Regarding the Lingāyat section of the community, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes as follows.118 “The Lingāyats share all their customs with the Linga Balijas, except that they acknowledge sūtakam, or pollution, and bathe to cleanse themselves of it. They freely eat in the homes of all Linga Balijas, but the latter will not eat with them. They completely disregard the spiritual authority of the Brāhmans, recognizing priests among the Linga Balijas, Jangams, or Pandārams. When it comes to their trade, they are different from the Kaikōlans in that they sometimes weave with silk, which the Kaikōlans never do.” Like the Padma Sālēs, the Karna Sālēs typically only weave coarse cotton fabrics.

Karnam.See Korono.

Karnam. — See Korono.

Karnam (accountant).—An exogamous sept of Kamma.

Karnam (accountant).—An exogamous clan of Kamma.

Karnataka.—The territorial name of a sub-division of Handichikka and Uppāra. It is also the name of a [254]sub-division of Mādhva and Smarta Brāhmans who speak the Kanarese language, as opposed to the Dēsastha Brāhmans, who are immigrants into Southern India from the Marātha country.

Karnataka.—The name of a region that is part of Handichikka and Uppāra. It’s also the name of a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]group of Mādhva and Smarta Brāhmans who speak Kannada, in contrast to the Dēsastha Brāhmans, who are newcomers to Southern India from the Marātha region.

Kāro Panikkar.—A class of temple servants in Malabar. “The Kāro Panikkar is said to be descended from the union of Vēttakorumagan (the God of hunting) and a Kiriyattil Nāyar woman. His occupation is to act as Vellichapād or oracle in temples dedicated to his divine ancestor.”119

Kāro Panikkar.—A group of temple workers in Malabar. “The Kāro Panikkar is believed to be descended from the union of Vēttakorumagan (the God of hunting) and a Kiriyattil Nāyar woman. His role is to serve as Vellichapād or oracle in temples dedicated to his divine ancestor.”119

Karpūra Chetti.—A synonym of Uppiliyans, who used to manufacture camphor (karpūra).

Karpūra Chetti.—Another term for Uppiliyans, who used to produce camphor (karpūra).

Kartā.—Kartā and Kartāvu, meaning agent or doer, is an honorific title of Nāyars and Sāmantas. It is also the name for the chief mourner at funerals of Nāyars and other castes on the west coast. Kartākkal, denoting, it is said, governors, has been returned, at times of census by Balijas claiming to be descendants of the Nāyak kings of Madura and Tanjore.

Kartā.—Kartā and Kartāvu, which mean agent or doer, are honorific titles for Nāyars and Sāmantas. It is also the term used for the chief mourner at the funerals of Nāyars and other castes along the west coast. Kartākkal, which is said to denote governors, has been reported at times of census by Balijas who claim to be descendants of the Nāyak kings of Madura and Tanjore.

Karukku-pattayar (those of the sharp sword).—A sub-division of Shānān. In the Census Report, 1891, the division Karukku-mattai (petiole of the palmyra leaf with serrated edges) was returned. Some Shānāns are said to have assumed the name of Karukku-mattai Vellālas.

Karukku-pattayar (those with the sharp sword).—A sub-group of Shānān. In the Census Report of 1891, the group Karukku-mattai (the petiole of the palmyra leaf with jagged edges) was listed. Some Shānāns are reported to have taken on the name Karukku-mattai Vellālas.

Karumala (black mountain).—An exogamous sept of Kānikar.

Karumala (black mountain).—A group within the Kānikar community that practices exogamy.

Karuman.—A sub-division of Kammālans, who do blacksmith’s work.

Karuman.—A subgroup of Kammālans who do blacksmithing.

Karumpuraththal.—A synonym for the caste name adopted by some Kāppiliyans. [255]

Karumpuraththal.—Another name for the caste title used by some Kāppiliyans. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Karumpurattan.—It is recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, that “the term Karumpurattān is said to be a corruption of Karu-aruttar, which means the Annihilators, and to have been given to the caste because they are the descendants of a garrison of Chōla Vellālas, who treacherously allowed an enemy to enter the Tanjore fort, and annihilate the Rāja and his family. Winslow, however, says120 that Karumpuram is a palmyra tree.121 and Karumpurattān may thus mean a palmyra man, that is, a toddy-drawer. In the enumeration schedules, the name was often written Karumpuran. If this etymology is correct, this caste must originally have been Shānāns or Iluvans. It is said to have come from the village of Tiruvadamarudūr in Tanjore, and settled in the north-eastern part of Madura. The caste has seven sub-castes, called after seven nādus or villages in Madura, in which it originally settled. In its ceremonies, etc., it closely follows the Ilamagams. Its title is Pillai.”

Karumpurattan.—The Madras Census Report of 1901 notes that “the term Karumpurattān is thought to be a corruption of Karu-aruttar, which means the Annihilators, given to the caste because they are descendants of a garrison of Chōla Vellālas, who deceitfully allowed an enemy to enter the Tanjore fort and destroy the Rāja and his family. Winslow, however, claims120 that Karumpuram refers to a palmyra tree.121 Therefore, Karumpurattān might mean palmyra man, specifically a toddy-drawer. In the enumeration schedules, it was often listed as Karumpuran. If this origin is accurate, this caste likely started out as Shānāns or Iluvans. They are said to have come from the village of Tiruvadamarudūr in Tanjore and settled in the northeastern part of Madura. The caste consists of seven sub-castes, named after seven nādus or villages in Madura where they originally established themselves. In its ceremonies and practices, it closely follows the Ilamagams. Its title is Pillai.”

Karutta (dark-coloured).—Recorded, at the Madras census, 1891, as a sub-division of Idaiyans, who have also returned Karuttakkādu, meaning black cotton soil or regur.

Karutta (dark-colored).—Recorded in the Madras census of 1891 as a sub-division of Idaiyans, who also referred to it as Karuttakkādu, meaning black cotton soil or regur.

Karuva Haddi.—A name for the scavenging section of Haddis.

Karuva Haddi.—A term for the scavenging part of Haddis.

Karuvan.—A corrupt form of Karumān.

Karuvan.—A twisted version of Karumān.

Karuvēlam.—Recorded in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Karuvēlam.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a branch of Nāyar.

Kasayi (butcher).—A Muhammadan occupational name.

Kasayi (butcher).—A Muslim occupational name.

Kāsi (Benares).—A gōtra of Mēdara and Karna Sālē. [256]

Kāsi (Benares).—A clan of Mēdara and Karna Sālē. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kāsi.—A name for the stone-mason section of Kamsalas.

Kāsi.—A term for the stone-mason part of Kamsalas.

Kasturi (musk).—An exogamous sept of Badaga, Kamma, Okkiliyan, and Vakkaliga. Indian musk is obtained from the musk glands of the Himalayan musk-deer, Moschus moschiferus.

Kasturi (musk).—An exogamous group of Badaga, Kamma, Okkiliyan, and Vakkaliga. Indian musk comes from the musk glands of the Himalayan musk deer, Moschus moschiferus.

Kasuba (workmen).—A section of Irulas of the Nīlgiris, who have abandoned jungle life in favour of working on planters’ estates or elsewhere.

Kasuba (workers).—A group of Irulas from the Nīlgiris who have left their forest life to work on plantations or in other jobs.

Kāsukkar.—The name, derived from kās, cash, of a sub-division of Chetti.

Kāsukkar.—The name, taken from kās, meaning cash, refers to a sub-division of Chetti.

Kāsula (copper coins).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sālē.

Kāsula (copper coins).—A group that marries outside their clan of Padma Sālē.

Kasyapa.—A Brāhmanical gōtra adopted by Bhatrāzus, Khatris, and Tontis. Kasyapa was one of the seven important Rishis, and the priest of Parasu Rāma.

Kasyapa.—A Brahmin clan adopted by Bhatrāzus, Khatris, and Tontis. Kasyapa was one of the seven major Rishis and the priest of Parasu Rama.

Katakam (crab).—An exogamous sept of Kōmati.

Katakam (crab).—An intermarrying group of Kōmati.

Katal Arayan.See Vālan.

Katal Arayan.Check out Vālan.

Katāri (dagger: katār).—An exogamous sept of Golla, Mutrācha, and Yerukala. The dagger or poignard, called katār, has “a solid blade of diamond section, the handle of which consists of two parallel bars with a cross-piece joining them. The hand grips the crosspiece, and the bars pass along each side of the wrist.”122

Katāri (dagger: katār).—An exogamous clan of Golla, Mutrācha, and Yerukala. The dagger or poignard, known as katār, features “a solid blade with a diamond shape, and the handle is made of two parallel bars connected by a crosspiece. The hand grips the crosspiece, while the bars run along each side of the wrist.”122

Katasan.—Recorded123 as “a small caste of basket-makers and lime-burners in the Tinnevelly district. It has at least two endogamous sub-divisions, namely, Pattankatti and Nīttarasan. Widows are allowed to remarry. The dead are buried. The social position of the caste is above that of the Vēttuvans, and they consider themselves polluted if they eat food prepared by a Shānān. But they are not allowed to enter Hindu temples, [257]they worship devils, and they have separate washermen and barbers of their own, all of which are signs of inferiority. Their title is Pattamkatti, and Kottan is also used.”

Katasan.—Recorded as “a small group of basket-makers and lime-burners in the Tinnevelly district. It has at least two endogamous sub-divisions, namely, Pattankatti and Nīttarasan. Widows are allowed to remarry. The dead are buried. The social standing of the group is higher than that of the Vēttuvans, and they feel polluted if they eat food prepared by a Shānān. However, they are not allowed to enter Hindu temples, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]they worship spirits, and they have their own washermen and barbers, all of which are signs of inferiority. Their title is Pattamkatti, and Kottan is also used.”

Kāththavarāya.—A synonym for Vannān, derived from Kāththavarāya, the deified son of Kāli, from whom the Vannāns trace their descent.

Kāththavarāya.—Another name for Vannān, originating from Kāththavarāya, the revered son of Kāli, from whom the Vannāns trace their lineage.

Kaththē (donkey).—An exogamous sept of Mādiga.

Kaththē (donkey).—An exogamous group of Mādiga.

Kaththi (knife).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga and Mādiga.

Kaththi (knife).—A group that practices exogamy within the Dēvānga and Mādiga communities.

Kaththiri (scissors).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga, and sub-division of Gadaba.

Kaththiri (scissors).—A group that practices exogamy among the Dēvānga community, and a subdivision of Gadaba.

Kaththiravāndlu (scissors people).—Concerning this section of the criminal classes, Mr. F. S. Mullaly writes to me as follows. “This is purely a Nellore name for this class of professional pick-pockets. The appellation seems to have been given to them from the fact that they frequent fairs and festivals, and busy railway platforms, offering knives and scissors for sale. And, when an opportunity presents itself, they are used for cutting strings of beads, ripping open bags, etc. Several of these light-fingered gentry have been found with small scissors in their mouths. Most of them wear shoes of a peculiar shape, and these form a convenient receptacle for the scissors. Bits of broken glass (to act as knives) are frequently found in their mouths. In different districts they are known by different appellations, such as Donga Dāsaris in North Arcot and parts of Cuddapah; Golla Woddars, Donga Woddars, and Muheri Kalas in Cuddapah, Bellary, and Kurnool; Pachupus in Kistna and Godāvari; Alagiris, Ena or Thogamalai Koravas in the southern districts. Individuals belonging to this class of thieves have been traced, since the opening of the East Coast Railway, as far as [258]Midnapore. An important way of identifying them is the fact that everyone of them, male and female, is branded at the corners of the eyebrows and between the eyes in childhood, as a safeguard against convulsions.”

Kaththiravāndlu (scissors people).—Regarding this group of criminals, Mr. F. S. Mullaly wrote to me as follows: “This is just a Nellore name for this type of professional pickpockets. The name seems to come from the fact that they often hang out at fairs and festivals, as well as busy railway platforms, selling knives and scissors. And when the chance arises, they use them for cutting strings of beads or ripping open bags, among other things. Many of these light-fingered individuals have been seen with small scissors in their mouths. Most of them wear uniquely shaped shoes, which serve as a handy place to store the scissors. Bits of broken glass (used like knives) are often found in their mouths. In various regions, they go by different names, such as Donga Dāsaris in North Arcot and parts of Cuddapah; Golla Woddars, Donga Woddars, and Muheri Kalas in Cuddapah, Bellary, and Kurnool; Pachupus in Kistna and Godāvari; Alagiris, Ena, or Thogamalai Koravas in the southern districts. Members of this class of thieves have been traced, since the opening of the East Coast Railway, all the way to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Midnapore. A key way to identify them is that every one of them, male and female, is branded at the corners of the eyebrows and between the eyes during childhood as a precaution against convulsions.”

For the following additional information I am indebted to an official of the Police department. “I am not aware of these people using any particular shoes. They use sandals such as are generally worn by ryots and the lower classes. These they get by stealing. They pick them up from houses during the daytime, when they go from house to house on the pretence of begging, or they steal them at nights along with other property. These sandals are made in different fashions in different districts, and so those possessed by Kathiras are generally of different kinds, being stolen from various parts of the country. They have no shoes of any peculiar make, nor do they get any made at all. Kathiras do not generally wear any shoes. They walk and run faster with bare feet. They wear shoes when walking through the jungle, and entrust them to one of their comrades when walking through the open country. They sometimes throw them off when closely pursued, and run away. In 1899, when we arrested one on the highroad, he had with him five or six pairs of shoes of different kinds and sizes, and he did not account satisfactorily for being in possession of so many. I subsequently learnt that some supernumeraries were hiding in the jungle close to the place where he was arrested.

For the following additional information, I owe thanks to a police department official. “I’m not aware of these people using any specific type of shoes. They wear sandals typically used by farmers and the lower class. They acquire them by stealing. They take them from houses during the day while pretending to beg, or they steal them at night along with other belongings. These sandals come in various styles from different regions, so the ones owned by Kathiras are usually different kinds, taken from various parts of the country. They don't have any uniquely made shoes, nor do they have any made for them. Kathiras generally don’t wear shoes. They walk and run faster barefoot. They wear shoes when walking through the jungle and hand them over to one of their friends when they’re crossing open land. Sometimes they toss them off when they're being chased and run away. In 1899, when we arrested one on the highway, he had five or six pairs of shoes of different types and sizes, and he couldn’t explain why he had so many. I later learned that some extra officers were hiding in the jungle nearby where he was arrested."

“About marks of branding on the face, it is not only Kathiras, but almost all nomadic tribes who have these marks. As the gangs move on exposed to changes of weather, the children sometimes get a disease called sandukatlu or palakurkura. They generally get this disease from the latter part of the first year up to the [259]fifth year. The symptoms are similar to those which children sometimes have at the time of teething. It is when children get this disease that they are branded on the face between the eyebrows, on the outer corners of the eyes, and sometimes on the belly. The brand-marks on the face and corners of the eyes are circular, and those on the belly generally horizontal. The circular brand-marks are made with a long piece of turmeric, one end of which is burnt for the purpose, or with an indigo-coloured cloth rolled like a pencil and burnt at one end. The horizontal marks are made with a hot needle. Similar brand-marks are made by some caste Hindus on their children.”

“Regarding branding marks on the face, it's not just the Kathiras, but almost all nomadic tribes have these marks. As the groups travel exposed to the weather, the children sometimes get a disease called sandukatlu or palakurkura. They usually get this illness from the latter part of their first year up to the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]fifth year. The symptoms are similar to what children often experience during teething. It is during this illness that the children are branded on the face between the eyebrows, on the outer corners of the eyes, and sometimes on the belly. The brand marks on the face and corners of the eyes are circular, while those on the belly are generally horizontal. The circular brand marks are made using a long piece of turmeric, one end of which is burnt for this purpose, or with a rolled piece of indigo-colored cloth that is pencil-shaped and burnt at one end. The horizontal marks are made with a hot needle. Similar brand marks are also made by some caste Hindus on their children.”

To Mr. P. B. Thomas I am indebted for specimens of the chaplet, made of strips of rolled pith, worn by Kaththira women when begging, and of the cotton bags, full of false pockets, regularly carried by both men and women, in which they secrete the little sharp knife and other articles constituting their usual equipment.

To Mr. P. B. Thomas, I owe thanks for the samples of the chaplet, made from rolled strips of pith, that Kaththira women wear when begging, as well as the cotton bags with fake pockets that both men and women regularly carry, where they hide their small sharp knife and other items that make up their usual gear.

In his “History of Railway thieves,” Mr. M. Paupa Rao Naidu, writing about the pick-pockets or Thetakars, says that “most of them wear shoes called chadāvs, and, if the articles stolen are very small, they put them at once into their shoes, which form very convenient receptacles from their peculiar shape; and, therefore, when a pick-pocket with such a shoe on is suspected of having stolen a jewel, the shoes must be searched first, then the mouth and the other parts of the body.”

In his “History of Railway Thieves,” Mr. M. Paupa Rao Naidu writes about pickpockets or Thetakars, saying that “most of them wear shoes called chadāvs, and if they steal very small items, they quickly stash them in their shoes, which are convenient containers due to their unique shape. So, when a pickpocket wearing such shoes is suspected of stealing a jewel, the shoes should be searched first, followed by the mouth and other parts of the body.”

Kaththula (sword).—An exogamous sept of Yānadi.

Kaththula (sword).—An exogamous clan of Yānadi.

Kātige (collyrium).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kātige (eye medicine).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kātikala (collyrium).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga.

Kātikala (eye salve).—An exogamous group of Dēvānga.

Katike.—The Katike or Katikilu are butchers in the Telugu country, concerning whom it is noted, in the [260]Kurnool Manual, that “some are called Sultāni butchers, or Hindus forcibly circumcised by the late Nabob of Kurnool. They observe both Mussalman and Hindu customs.” A correspondent in the Kurnool district informs me that the butchers of Kurnool belong to three classes, one selling beef, and the others mutton. Of these, the first are Muhammadans, and are called Gāyi Khasayi, as they deal in beef. The other two are called respectively Sultānis and Surasus, i.e., the circumcised and uncircumcised. Both claim to be the descendants of two brothers, and have the following tradition concerning their origin. Tīpu Sultān is said not to have relished the idea of taking mutton at the hands of Hindus, as they would not perform Bismallah at the time of slaughtering the sheep. He accordingly ordered both the brothers to appear before him. Being the manager of the family, the elder went, and was forcibly circumcised. On hearing the news, the younger brother absconded. The descendants of the former are Muhammadans, and of the latter Hindus. As he was made a Muhammadan by force, the elder brother and his descendants did not adopt all the Muhammadan manners and customs. Till recently they did not even allow their beards to grow. At the present day, they go to mosques, dress like Muhammadans, shave their heads, and grow beards, but do not intermarry with the true Muhammadans. The descendants of the younger brother still call themselves Āri-katikelu, or Marātha butchers, profess the Hindu religion, and follow Hindu manners and customs. Though they do not eat with Muhammadans or Sultānis, their Hindu brethren shun them because of their profession, and their intimacy with Sultānis. I am informed that, at Nandyal in the Kurnool district, some Marātha butchers, who observe [261]purely Hindu customs, are called by Muhammadan names. The Tahsildar of the Sirvel tāluk in the same district states that, prior to the reign of the father of Ghulam Rasul Khān, the dethroned Nawāb of Kurnool, the butcher’s profession was solely in the hands of the Marāthas, some of whom were, as stated in the Manual, forcibly circumcised, and became a separate butcher caste, called Sultāni. There are two sections among these Sultāni butchers, viz., Bakra (mutton) and Gai Kasai (beef butcher). Similar stories of forcible conversion to the Muhammadan religion are prevalent in the Bellary district, where the Kasāyis are mostly converted Hindus, who dress in the Hindu style, but possess Muhammadan names with Hindu terminations, e.g., Hussainappa.

Katike.—The Katike or Katikilu are butchers in the Telugu region. The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Kurnool Manual notes that "some are called Sultāni butchers, or Hindus who were forcibly circumcised by the late Nawab of Kurnool. They follow both Muslim and Hindu customs." A contact in the Kurnool district tells me that the butchers of Kurnool fall into three categories: one group sells beef, while the others sell mutton. The first group consists of Muslims known as Gāyi Khasayi, who deal in beef. The other two groups are called Sultānis and Surasus, which refer to the circumcised and uncircumcised, respectively. Both claim to be descended from two brothers, and they have the following story about their origins. Tīpu Sultān supposedly disliked the idea of eating mutton prepared by Hindus, as they didn’t say Bismillah when slaughtering the sheep. He then summoned both brothers to appear before him. As the head of the family, the elder brother went and was forcibly circumcised. Upon hearing this, the younger brother ran away. The descendants of the elder brother are now Muslims, while those of the younger brother are Hindus. Since he was converted to Islam against his will, the elder brother and his descendants did not fully adopt all Muslim customs. Until recently, they didn't even allow their beards to grow. Nowadays, they go to mosques, dress like Muslims, shave their heads, and grow beards, but they don’t intermarry with true Muslims. The descendants of the younger brother still identify as Āri-katikelu, or Marātha butchers, practice the Hindu religion, and follow Hindu customs. Although they don't eat with Muslims or Sultānis, their Hindu peers avoid them because of their profession and their closeness to Sultānis. I've been told that in Nandyal, in the Kurnool district, some Marātha butchers who strictly observe [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Hindu customs are referred to by Muslim names. The Tahsildar of the Sirvel tāluk in the same district indicates that, before the reign of the father of Ghulam Rasul Khān, the dethroned Nawab of Kurnool, butchering was exclusively done by Marāthas, some of whom, as mentioned in the Manual, were forcibly circumcised and became a separate butcher caste called Sultāni. There are two branches among these Sultāni butchers: Bakra (mutton) and Gai Kasai (beef butcher). Similar accounts of forced conversion to Islam are common in the Bellary district, where the Kasāyis are primarily converted Hindus who dress in traditional Hindu attire but have Muslim names with Hindu endings, such as Hussainappa.

In connection with butchers, I may quote the following extract from a petition to the Governor of Madras on the subject of a strike among the Madras butchers in 1907. “We, the residents of Madras, beg respectfully to bring to your Excellency’s notice the inconvenience and hardship we are suffering owing to the strike of the butchers in the city. The total failure of the supply of mutton, which is an important item in the diet of non-Brāhmin Hindus, Muhammadans, Indian Christians, Parsis, Eurasians and Europeans, causes a deprivation not merely of something to which people have become accustomed, but of an article of food by which the health of many is sustained, and the want of which is calculated to impair their health, and expose them to diseases, against which they have hitherto successfully contended.”

In connection with butchers, I can quote the following excerpt from a petition to the Governor of Madras regarding a strike among the Madras butchers in 1907. “We, the residents of Madras, respectfully bring to your Excellency’s attention the inconvenience and hardship we are experiencing due to the butchers' strike in the city. The complete lack of mutton supply, which is an essential part of the diet for non-Brāhmin Hindus, Muslims, Indian Christians, Parsis, Eurasians, and Europeans, not only deprives people of something they are used to, but also takes away a vital food source that many rely on for their health. The absence of this food can deteriorate their health and make them more vulnerable to diseases that they have successfully fought off until now.”

Katorauto.—A name for the offspring of maid servants in the harems of Oriya Zamindars, who are said to claim to be Kshatriyas. [262]

Katorauto.—A term for the children of maid servants in the harems of Oriya Zamindars, who allegedly claim to be Kshatriyas. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Katta.—Katta or Kattē, meaning a bund, dam, or embankment, has been recorded as an exogamous sept or gōtra of Dēvānga and Kurni.

Katta.—Katta or Kattē, which means a bund, dam, or embankment, has been noted as an exogamous sept or gōtra of Dēvānga and Kurni.

Kattelu (sticks or faggots).—An exogamous sept of Bōya.

Kattelu (sticks or faggots).—An exogamous group of Bōya.

Kattira.—A sub-division of Gadaba.

Kattira.—A subdivision of Gadaba.

Kāttu.See Kādu.

Kāttu.Check out Kādu.

Kattukudugirajāti.—The name, meaning the caste which allows living together after marriage of an informal kind, recorded124 as the caste name of Turuvalars (Vēdars) of Salem, derived from a custom among them, which authorises temporary matrimonial arrangements.

Kattukudugirajāti.—This name refers to a caste that permits informal marriage arrangements. It is recorded124 as the caste name of the Turuvalars (Vēdars) from Salem, stemming from a tradition among them that allows for temporary marital relationships.

Kāttu Kāpari (dweller in the forest).—Said to be a name for Irulas or Villiyans. The equivalent Kāttu Kāpu is, in like manner, said to be a name for Jōgis.

Kāttu Kāpari (forest dweller).—It's said to be a name for Irulas or Villiyans. Similarly, the equivalent Kāttu Kāpu is considered a name for Jōgis.

Kāttu Marāthi.—A synonym of Kuruvikāran.

Kāttu Marāthi.—A synonym of Kuruvikāran.

Kaudikiāru.—Kaudikiāru or Gaudikiāru is a title of Kurubas.

Kaudikiāru.—Kaudikiāru or Gaudikiāru is a title for the Kurubas.

Kāvadi.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, Kabadi is returned as the name of a class of Telugu wood-cutters. Kāvadi is the name of a division of Koravas, who carry offerings to Perumālswāmi at Tirupati on a pole (kāvadi). Kāvadi or Kāvadiga is further the name given to Kannadiyan curd-sellers in Madras, who carry the curds in pots as head-loads.

Kāvadi.—In the Madras Census Report of 1901, Kabadi is listed as a group of Telugu wood-cutters. Kāvadi is also a term for a division of Koravas, who transport offerings to Perumālswāmi at Tirupati on a pole (kāvadi). Additionally, Kāvadi or Kāvadiga refers to the Kannadiyan curd-sellers in Madras, who carry curds in pots on their heads.

Kāvalgar (watchman).—Recorded, at times of census, as a sub-division of Ambalakāran, and title of Nattamān, Malaimān, and Sudarmān. The equivalent Kāvali is recorded as a sub-division of the Kammas. The Kāvalis, or watchers, in the Telugu country, are said to be generally Lingāyat Bōyas.125 The Telugu Mutrāchas are also called Kāvalgar. The village kāval [263]system in the southern districts is discussed in the note on Maravans.

Kāvalgar (watchman).—Recorded during census times as a sub-division of Ambalakāran, and the title of Nattamān, Malaimān, and Sudarmān. The equivalent Kāvali is noted as a sub-division of the Kammas. The Kāvalis, or watchers, in the Telugu region are generally said to be Lingāyat Bōyas.125 The Telugu Mutrāchas are also referred to as Kāvalgar. The village kāval [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] system in the southern districts is discussed in the note on Maravans.

Kavandan.—At the census, 1901, more than nine thousand people returned themselves as Kavandan or Kaundan, which is a title of Konga Vellālas, and many other castes, such as Anappan, Kāppiliyan, Palli, Sembadavan, Urāli, and Vēttuvan. The name corresponds to the Canarese Gauda or Gaunda.

Kavandan.—During the 1901 census, over nine thousand people identified as Kavandan or Kaundan, which is a title for the Konga Vellālas, along with many other castes like Anappan, Kāppiliyan, Palli, Sembadavan, Urāli, and Vēttuvan. The name matches the Canarese Gauda or Gaunda.

Kaundinya (a sage).—A Brāhmanical gōtra adopted by Rāzus and Bhatrāzus.

Kaundinya (a sage).—A Brahmin clan adopted by Rāzus and Bhatrāzus.

Kavanē (sling).—An exogamous sept of Gangadikāra Holeyas.

Kavanē (sling).—A group of Gangadikāra Holeyas that marries outside their clan.

Kavarai.—Kavarai is the name for Balijas (Telugu trading caste), who have settled in the Tamil country. The name is said to be a corrupt form of Kauravar or Gauravar, descendants of Kuroo of the Mahābaratha, or to be the equivalent of Gauravalu, sons of Gauri, the wife of Siva. Other suggested derivatives are: (a) a corrupt form of the Sanskrit Kvaryku, badness or reproach, and Arya, i.e., deteriorated Aryans; (b) Sanskrit Kavara, mixed, or Kavaraha, a braid of hair, i.e., a mixed class, as many of the Telugu professional prostitutes belong to this caste; (c) Kavarai or Gavaras, buyers or dealers in cattle.

Kavarai.—Kavarai is the term used for Balijas (a Telugu trading group) who have settled in Tamil Nadu. The name is thought to be a corrupted version of Kauravar or Gauravar, descendants of Kuroo from the Mahābaratha, or it could be equivalent to Gauravalu, the sons of Gauri, who is the wife of Shiva. Other suggested origins include: (a) a corrupted form of the Sanskrit Kvaryku, meaning badness or reproach, and Arya, meaning declined Aryans; (b) Sanskrit Kavara, which means mixed, or Kavaraha, referring to a braid of hair, indicating a mixed group, as many of the Telugu professional sex workers belong to this caste; (c) Kavarai or Gavaras, referring to buyers or dealers in cattle.

The Kavarais call themselves Balijas, and derive the name from bali, fire, jaha sprung, i.e., men sprung from fire. Like other Telugu castes, they have exogamous septs, e.g., tupāki (gun), jetti (wrestler), pagadāla (coral), bandi (cart), sīmaneli, etc.

The Kavarais refer to themselves as Balijas, a name that comes from "bali," meaning fire, indicating that they are men born of fire. Like other Telugu castes, they have exogamous groups, such as tupāki (gun), jetti (wrestler), pagadāla (coral), bandi (cart), sīmaneli, and so on.

The Kavarais of Srīvilliputtūr, in the Tinnevelly district, are believed to be the descendants of a few families, which emigrated thither from Manjakuppam (Cuddalore) along with one Dora Krishnamma Nāyudu. About the time of Tirumal Nāyak, one Rāmaswāmi [264]Rāju, who had five sons, of whom the youngest was Dora Krishnamma, was reigning near Manjakuppam. Dora Krishnamma, who was of wandering habits, having received some money from his mother, went to Trichinopoly, and, when he was seated in the main bazar, an elephant rushed into the street. The beast was stopped in its career, and tamed by Dora Krishnamma, to escort whom to his palace Vijayaranga Chokkappa sent his retinue and ministers. While they were engaged in conversation, news arrived that some chiefs in the Tinnevelly district refused to pay their taxes, and Dora Krishnamma volunteered to go and subdue them. Near Srīvilliputtūr he passed a ruined temple dedicated to Krishna, which he thought of rebuilding if he should succeed in subduing the chiefs. When he reached Tinnevelly, they, without raising any objection, paid their dues, and Dora Krishnamma returned to Srīvilliputtūr, and settled there.

The Kavarais of Srīvilliputtūr, in the Tinnevelly district, are thought to be the descendants of a few families that moved there from Manjakuppam (Cuddalore) along with one Dora Krishnamma Nāyudu. Around the time of Tirumal Nāyak, a man named Rāmaswāmi Rāju, who had five sons with Dora Krishnamma being the youngest, was ruling near Manjakuppam. Dora Krishnamma, known for his wandering nature, received some money from his mother and went to Trichinopoly. While sitting in the main bazaar, an elephant charged into the street. Dora Krishnamma managed to stop and tame the elephant, after which Vijayaranga Chokkappa sent his attendants and ministers to escort him to his palace. During their conversation, they heard that some chiefs in the Tinnevelly district were refusing to pay their taxes, and Dora Krishnamma offered to go and bring them under control. Near Srīvilliputtūr, he came across a ruined temple dedicated to Krishna and thought about rebuilding it if he succeeded in settling the chiefs. When he arrived in Tinnevelly, the chiefs paid their taxes without any resistance, and Dora Krishnamma returned to Srīvilliputtūr and made it his home.

Their marriage ceremonies are based on the type common to many Telugu castes, but those who belong to the Sīmaneli sept, and believe themselves to be direct descendants of Krishnamma, have two special forms of ceremonial, viz., Krishnamma pērantālu, and the carrying of pots (gurigelu) on the heads of the bride and bridegroom when they go to the temple before the Kāsiyatra ceremony. The Krishnamma pērantālu is performed on the day prior to the muhūrtam (tāli-tying), and consists in the worship of the soul of Krishnamma, a married woman. A new cloth is purchased and presented to a married woman, together with money, betel, etc., and she is fed before the rest. It is practically a form of srādh ceremony, and all the formalities of the srādh, except the hōmam (sacred fire) and repeating of mantras from the Vēdas, are gone through. This is very commonly [265]observed by Brāhmans, and a few castes which engage a Brāhman priest for their ceremonies. The main idea is the propitiation of the soul of the dead married woman. If such a woman dies in a family, every ceremony of an auspicious nature must be preceded by sumangaliprarthana, or worship of this married woman (sumangali). Orthodox females think that, if the ceremony is not performed, she will do them some harm. Another custom, now dying out, is the tying of a dagger to the waist of the bridegroom.

Their wedding ceremonies are similar to those of many Telugu castes, but those from the Sīmaneli group, who see themselves as direct descendants of Krishnamma, have two unique rituals: the Krishnamma pērantālu and the carrying of pots (gurigelu) on the heads of the bride and groom when they go to the temple before the Kāsiyatra ceremony. The Krishnamma pērantālu takes place the day before the muhūrtam (tāli-tying) and involves worshiping the soul of Krishnamma, a married woman. A new cloth is bought and given to a married woman, along with money and betel, and she is fed before everyone else. It is essentially a type of srādh ceremony, with most of the rituals of the srādh performed, except for the hōmam (sacred fire) and the recitation of mantras from the Vēdas. This is widely [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]practiced by Brāhmans and a few castes that hire a Brāhman priest for their ceremonies. The main focus is to honor the soul of the deceased married woman. If such a woman passes away in a family, every ceremony with a positive intent must begin with sumangaliprarthana, or the worship of this married woman (sumangali). Traditional women believe that if this ritual is skipped, she may bring them misfortune. Another custom that is now fading away is the tying of a dagger to the waist of the groom.

In the Madura district, the Kavarais are described126 as being “most commonly manufacturers and sellers of bangles made of a particular kind of earth, found only in one or two parts of the district. Those engaged in this traffic usually call themselves Chettis or merchants. When otherwise employed as spinners, dyers, painters, and the like, they take the title of Nāyakkan. It is customary with these, as with other Nāyakkans, to wear the sacred thread: but the descendants of the Nāyakkan kings, who are now living at Vellei-kuricchi, do not conform to this usage, on the ground that they are at present in a state of impurity and degradation, and consequently ought not to wear the sacred emblem.”

In the Madura district, the Kavarais are described126 as being “mostly manufacturers and sellers of bangles made from a specific type of clay, found only in a couple of areas of the district. Those involved in this trade commonly refer to themselves as Chettis or merchants. When they work as spinners, dyers, painters, and similar jobs, they use the title of Nāyakkan. It’s customary for them, like other Nāyakkans, to wear the sacred thread; however, the descendants of the Nāyakkan kings, who currently live in Vellei-kuricchi, do not follow this practice, claiming that they are in a state of impurity and degradation, and therefore should not wear the sacred emblem.”

The bulk of the Kavarais in Tanjore are said127 “to bear the title Nāyak. Some that are engaged in trade, more especially those who sell glass bangles, are called Settis, and those who originally settled in agriculture are called Reddis. The title of Nāyak, like Pillai, Mudali, and Setti, is generally sought after. As a rule, men of the Palli or cooly class, when they enter the Government service, and shepherds, when they grow [266]rich in trade or otherwise, assume this title, wear the nāmam (the trident mark on the forehead emblematic of the Vaishnava persuasion), and call themselves Kavarais or Vadugars, though they cannot speak Telugu, much less point to any part of the Telugu country as the seat of their forefathers.”

The majority of the Kavarais in Tanjore are said127 “to hold the title Nāyak. Some who are involved in trade, especially those who sell glass bangles, are referred to as Settis, while those who initially settled in farming are called Reddis. The title of Nāyak, similar to Pillai, Mudali, and Setti, is generally desired. Typically, men from the Palli or labor class, when they join the Government service, and shepherds, when they become [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]wealthy through trade or other means, adopt this title, wear the nāmam (the trident mark on the forehead symbolizing the Vaishnava belief), and identify themselves as Kavarais or Vadugars, despite not being able to speak Telugu, let alone identify any part of the Telugu region as their ancestors' homeland.”

One of the largest sub-divisions of the Kavarais is Valaiyal, the Tamil equivalent of Gazula, both words meaning a glass or lac bangle.128

One of the largest sub-divisions of the Kavarais is Valaiyal, the Tamil term for Gazula, with both words meaning a glass or lac bangle.128

Kāvuthiyan.—The Kāvuthiyans are described as follows in the Gazetteer of Malabar. “They are barbers who serve the Tiyans and lower castes; they are also sometimes given the title Kurup. Their females act as midwives. There seem to be several sections, distinguished by the affix of the name of the castes which they serve, as for instance Tacchakāvuthiyan or Tacchakurup, and Kanisakāvuthiyan, appropriated to the service of the Asāris and Kanisans respectively; while the barbers who serve the Izhuvans are known both as Aduttōns, Vattis, or Izhuva Kāvuthiyans. But whether all these should be regarded as offshoots of one main barber caste, or as degraded sections of the castes which they serve, the Kāvuthiyans proper being only barbers to the Tiyans, it is difficult to determine. The fact that the Nāviyan or Kāvuthiyan section of the Veluttedans, as well as the Kāvuthiyan section of the Mukkuvans, are admittedly but degraded sections of these castes, makes the second the more probable view. It is also to be noticed that the Kāvuthiyans, in the north at least, follow marumakkattāyam (inheritance in the female line), while the Taccha and Kanisa Kāvuthiyans follow the other principle of descent.” [267]

Kāvuthiyan.—The Kāvuthiyans are described in the Gazetteer of Malabar as follows: “They are barbers who serve the Tiyans and lower castes; they are sometimes also called Kurup. Their women serve as midwives. There appear to be several groups, identified by the names of the castes they serve, such as Tacchakāvuthiyan or Tacchakurup for those who assist the Asāris, and Kanisakāvuthiyan for those who serve the Kanisans; meanwhile, the barbers serving the Izhuvans are known as Aduttōns, Vattis, or Izhuva Kāvuthiyans. It’s hard to say if all these groups should be seen as branches of one main barber caste or if they are lower-status sections of the castes they assist, with Kāvuthiyans primarily being barbers for the Tiyans. The fact that the Nāviyan or Kāvuthiyan group of the Veluttedans, as well as the Kāvuthiyan group of the Mukkuvans, are clearly lower-status sections of these casts makes the second interpretation more likely. It’s also worth noting that the Kāvuthiyans in the north, at least, follow marumakkattāyam (inheritance through the female line), while the Taccha and Kanisa Kāvuthiyans adhere to the other principle of descent.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kayalān.—The Kayalāns are Tamil-speaking Muhammadans, closely allied to the Marakkāyars and living at Kāyalpatnam in Tinnevelly. Many of them have settled as merchants in Madras, and sell glass beads, cowry shells, dolls from Tirupati, toys, etc. Some are money-lenders to the lower classes, and others travel about from village to village selling, for cash or credit rates, cloths, brass vessels, and other articles. They are sometimes called Ārumāsaththukadankārar, or six months’ debt people, as this is the time usually allowed for payment. At Kāyalpatnam, a Kayalān husband is expected to live in his father-in-law’s house, and, in connection with this custom, the following legend is narrated. The chiefman of the town gave his daughter in marriage to a man living in an adjacent village. One evening, she went to fetch water from a tank, and, on her way back, trod on a cobra. She could not move her foot, lest she should be bitten, so she stood where she was, with her water-pot on her head, till she was discovered by her father on the following morning. He killed the snake with the kitti (tweezers) and knife which he had with him, and told the girl to go with him to his house. She, however, refused to do so, and went to her husband’s house, from which she was subsequently taken to that of her father. The kitti is an instrument of torture, consisting of two sticks tied together at one end, between which the fingers were placed as in a lemon squeezer. With this instrument, the fingers were gradually bent backwards towards the back of the hand, until the sufferer, no longer able to endure the excruciating pain, yielded to the demands made on him to make confession of guilt.

Kayalān.—The Kayalāns are Tamil-speaking Muslims, closely related to the Marakkāyars and living in Kāyalpatnam in Tinnevelly. Many have settled as merchants in Madras, selling glass beads, cowry shells, dolls from Tirupati, toys, and more. Some act as money-lenders to the lower classes, while others travel from village to village selling items like cloth, brass vessels, and other goods, either for cash or on credit. They're sometimes called Ārumāsaththukadankārar, or six months' debt people, as this is the typical repayment period. In Kāyalpatnam, it's customary for a Kayalān husband to live in his father-in-law's house. A legend associated with this practice tells of a town chief who married off his daughter to a man from a nearby village. One evening, she went to get water from a tank and accidentally stepped on a cobra. She couldn't move her foot for fear of being bitten, so she stood there with her water pot on her head until her father found her the next morning. He killed the snake with the kitti (tweezers) and knife he had, and told her to come with him to his house. However, she refused and went back to her husband’s home, from which she was later taken to her father's. The kitti is a device used for torture, consisting of two sticks tied at one end; fingers are placed inside as if using a lemon squeezer. This instrument gradually bends the fingers backward towards the back of the hand, until the victim, unable to bear the pain any longer, succumbs to the pressure to confess guilt.

Kāyasth.—Kāyasth or Kāyastha is the writer-caste of Bengal. See Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal. [268]

Kāyasth.—Kāyasth or Kāyastha is the writing community of Bengal. See Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kayerthannāya (Strychnos Nux-vomica sept).—An exogamous sept of the Bants and Shivalli Brāhmans in South Canara.

Kayerthannāya (Strychnos Nux-vomica sept).—An exogamous group of the Bants and Shivalli Brāhmans in South Canara.

Kayila (unripe fruit).—An exogamous sept of Orugunta Kāpu.

Kayila (unripe fruit).—A group within the Orugunta Kāpu that practices exogamy.

Keimal (kei, hand, as an emblem of power).—A sub-division of Nāyar.

Keimal (kei, hand, as a symbol of power).—A sub-group of Nāyar.

Kēla.—A small class of Oriya jugglers and mountebanks, whose women, like the Dommara females, are often prostitutes. The name is derived from kēli, dancing, or khēl to play.

Kēla.—A small group of Oriya jugglers and street performers, whose women, like the Dommara women, are often involved in prostitution. The name comes from kēli, meaning dancing, or khēl, meaning to play.

Kelasi.—For the following account of the Kelasi or barber caste of South Canara, I am indebted to a note on the barbers of Tuluva by Mr. M. Bapu Rao.129 The caste name is derived from kelasa, work. In like manner, the Canarese barbers of Bellary and Dharwar call themselves Kashta Mādōvaru, or those who perform the difficult task.

Kelasi.—For the following account of the Kelasi or barber caste of South Canara, I am grateful to Mr. M. Bapu Rao for his note on the barbers of Tuluva. 129 The caste name comes from kelasa, which means work. Similarly, the Canarese barbers of Bellary and Dharwar refer to themselves as Kashta Mādōvaru, or those who undertake the challenging task.

The barbers of South Canara are of different castes or sub-castes according to the language they speak, or the people for whom they operate. Thus there are (1) the Tulu Kelsi (Kutchidāye, man of the hair) or Bhandāri; (2) the Konkani Kelsi or Mhāllo, who must have migrated from the north; (3) the Hindustani Kelsi or Hajāms; (4) the Lingāyat Kelsi or Hadapavada (man of the wallet); (5) the Māppilla (Moplah) barber Vasa; (6) the Malayāli barber Kāvudiyan; and even Telugu and Tamil barbers imported by the sepoy regiments until recently stationed at Mangalore. Naturally the Tulus form the bulk of the class in Tuluva. There is among them a section known as Maddele, employed by palm-tappers, and hence considered socially inferior to [269]the Bhandāri, who is employed by the higher classes. [The Billava barbers are called Parēl Madiali or Parēl Madivala.] If a high caste barber operates for a man of lower caste, he loses his caste thereby, and has to pay a fine, or in some other way expiate his offence before he gains re-admission into his community. Pariahs in these parts have no separate caste of barbers, but anyone among themselves may try his skill on any head. Māppilla barbers are employed only by the Muhammadans. Even in their own community, however, they do not live in commensality with other Māppillas though gradations of caste are not recognised by their religion.

The barbers of South Canara come from different castes or sub-castes based on the language they speak or the communities they serve. Here are some examples: (1) the Tulu Kelsi (Kutchidāye, man of the hair) or Bhandāri; (2) the Konkani Kelsi or Mhāllo, likely migrants from the north; (3) the Hindustani Kelsi or Hajāms; (4) the Lingāyat Kelsi or Hadapavada (man of the wallet); (5) the Māppilla (Moplah) barber Vasa; (6) the Malayāli barber Kāvudiyan; and even Telugu and Tamil barbers brought in by the sepoy regiments that were stationed in Mangalore until recently. Naturally, the Tulus make up the majority of the community in Tuluva. Among them is a group known as Maddele, who are hired by palm-tappers and thus seen as socially inferior to the Bhandāri, who is employed by the higher classes. [The Billava barbers are referred to as Parēl Madiali or Parēl Madivala.] If a high-caste barber serves a man of a lower caste, he loses his caste and must pay a fine or find another way to make amends before he can rejoin his community. In this region, Pariahs do not have a distinct caste of barbers, and any member of that community can practice on anyone's hair. Māppilla barbers are only employed by Muslims. However, even within their own community, they do not share meals with other Māppillas, despite their religion not recognizing caste distinctions.

The barber is not ambitious enough to claim equality of rank with the Bant, the potter, the piper, the weaver, or the oilmonger; but he shows a decided disposition to regard himself as above the level of the fisherman or the palanquin-bearer. The latter often disclaim any such inferiority, and refer to the circumstance that they discharge the functions of carrying the huge umbrella in marriage processions, and shouldering the gods in religious processions. They argue that their rivals perform an operation, the defilement of which can only be wiped off by bathing the head with a solution of sacred earth taken from besides the roots of the tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum). In justice to the barber, however, it must be mentioned that he has to perform certain priestly duties for most Sūdras. His presence is essential at two of the ceremonies observed by castes professing to be superior to his. At the name-giving ceremony a Tulu barber has to tie a thread round the waist of the child, and name it, among Sūdras of a higher caste than himself. [At the present day, the Bhandāri is said to receive his fee for tying the thread, though he does not actually perform the act.] Again, on the death of a [270]high caste Sūdra, the barber has to carry the fire to the cremation ground, though the funeral pyre is lighted by the relations of the deceased. He also has to assist at certain other rites connected with funeral obsequies, such as purifying the house.

The barber doesn't aim high enough to consider himself equal to the Bant, the potter, the piper, the weaver, or the oil seller; however, he believes he is above the fisherman or the palanquin-bearer. The palanquin-bearers often reject any notion of inferiority and point out that they carry the large umbrella in wedding processions and shoulder the gods in religious events. They argue that their competitors perform a job whose impurity can only be cleansed by washing the head with sacred earth taken from the roots of the tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum). To be fair to the barber, he does have to perform some priestly duties for most Sūdras. He is needed at two ceremonies conducted by castes that claim to be higher than his. At the name-giving ceremony, a Tulu barber has to tie a thread around the child's waist and name it among Sūdras of a higher caste than his own. [Nowadays, the Bhandāri reportedly gets paid for tying the thread, although he doesn't actually do it himself.] Additionally, when a high-caste Sūdra dies, the barber must carry the fire to the cremation ground, even though the deceased's family lights the funeral pyre. He also assists in other rituals related to funerals, such as purifying the house.

[The collection of fragments of bones from the ashes, heaping up the ashes, and cleaning the spot where the corpse was burnt, are the business of the Kelasi. These duties he performs for Morlis, Bants, Gattis, and Vodaris. The Bhandāri or Kelasi is an object of intense hatred to Konkani women, who call them by abusive names, such as fellow with a burnt face, miserable wretch, widow-maker, etc.]

[The collection of bone fragments from the ashes, piling up the ashes, and cleaning the area where the body was burned is the responsibility of the Kelasi. He performs these tasks for Morlis, Bants, Gattis, and Vodaris. The Bhandāri or Kelasi is intensely disliked by Konkani women, who insult them with names like burnt-face, miserable wretch, widow-maker, and so on.]

The barber in South Canara has invented several stories concerning the origin of his first progenitor. At a time when the barber had not yet been created, Siva was a bachelor, spending his time in austere devotions, and allowing his hair to grow into long matted locks. A time came when he became bent on matrimony, and he thought that the hirsute condition of his face would not be appreciated by his bride, the young daughter of the king of the mountains. It was at this juncture that the barber was created to make Siva a good-looking bridegroom, and the Brāhman to officiate at the marriage ceremony. According to another legend, a Gāndharva-born woman was on one occasion cast into the sea by irate Brahma, and doomed to be turned into a rock. Moved by her piteous entreaties, however, Brahma relented, and ordained that she should be restored to human form when Parasurāma should happen to set his foot upon the rock. This came to pass when Parasurāma thrust back the waters of the western sea in order to create the western coast. The re-humanised woman thereupon offered her thanksgivings in such [271]winning words that the great Brāhman hero asked her to beg any boon she wished. She begged a son, who should in some way remind generations to come of the great Brāhman who had reclaimed her from her inanimate state. The boon was thereupon granted that she should give birth to sons, who would not indeed be Brāhmans, but who would perform functions analogous to those performed by Brāhmans. The barber thus discharges certain priestly duties for Sūdras, and cleanses the body even as the Brāhman cleanses the soul; and the defilement caused by the razor can be removed only by the smearing of mud and water, because the barber’s female progenitor was a rock recovered out of water.

The barber in South Canara has come up with various stories about the origins of his ancestor. Back when the barber didn't exist yet, Siva was a single man who spent his time in strict devotion and let his hair grow into long matted locks. Eventually, he decided he wanted to get married and figured that his hairy appearance wouldn't impress his bride, the young daughter of the mountain king. It was at this moment that the barber was created to make Siva a handsome groom, along with a Brāhman to officiate the wedding. In another tale, a woman born of a Gāndharva was once thrown into the sea by an angry Brahma, cursed to become a rock. However, Brahma, moved by her desperate pleas, decided to help her and said she would regain her human form when Parasurāma stepped on the rock. This happened when Parasurāma pushed back the waters of the western sea to create the western coast. The woman, now human again, expressed her gratitude with such charming words that the great Brāhman hero let her request any wish she wanted. She asked for a son who would remind future generations of the great Brāhman who saved her. The wish was granted, and she would give birth to sons who, while not actual Brāhmans, would carry out similar roles. Thus, the barber performs certain priestly duties for Sūdras and cleanses the body just like a Brāhman cleanses the soul; the impurity caused by the razor can only be removed by smearing mud and water, since the barber’s female ancestor was a rock pulled from the water.

The primary occupation of the barber does not always bring in a sufficient income, while it leaves him a large amount of leisure. This he spends, if possible, in agricultural labour, in which he is materially assisted by his female relations. Barbers residing in towns hold no land to fall back upon, but their average monthly earnings range from five to seven rupees. Their brethren in the villages are not so busy plying the razor, so they cultivate land as tenants. One of the blessings conferred by Parasurāma is that the barber shall never starve.

The main job of a barber doesn’t always provide enough income, but it does leave him with a lot of free time. He often spends that time working in agriculture, with help from his female relatives. Barbers living in towns don’t own any land to rely on, averaging monthly earnings between five to seven rupees. Those in the villages aren’t as occupied with cutting hair, so they tend to work the land as tenants. One of the gifts given by Parasurāma is that barbers will never go hungry.

When a child is born, a male member of the family has to tie a thread round its waist, and give it a name. The choice of a name often depends upon the day of the week on which the child was born. If it is born on a Sunday it is called, if a boy, Aitha (Auditya, sun), or, if a girl, Aithe; if on a Monday, Sōmē or Sōmu; if on a Tuesday, Angāra or Angāre; if on a Wednesday, Budāra or Budāre, changed among Pariahs into Mudāra or Mudāru; if on a Thursday, Guruva or Guruvu; if on [272]a Friday, Tukra (Shukra) or Tukru; if on a Saturday, Taniya (Saniya) or Taniyaru. Other names which are common are Lakkana (Lakshmana), Krishna, Subba, and Korapulu (Koraga woman). Those who can afford to do so often employ a Brāhman priest to ascertain whether the child is born lucky or unlucky; and, in the latter case, the barber is advised to offer something to the tutelary deity or the nine planets, or to propitiate the village deity, if it is found that the child is born under its evil eye. No lullaby should be sung while the child is being rocked for the first time in a cradle, perhaps because, if the very first rocking is done with a show of rejoicing, some evil spirit may be envious of the human joy, and mar the happiness.

When a baby is born, a male family member needs to tie a thread around its waist and give it a name. The name often depends on the day of the week the baby was born. If born on a Sunday, the boy is named Aitha (Auditya, sun) or, if it's a girl, Aithe; if on a Monday, Sōmē or Sōmu; if on a Tuesday, Angāra or Angāre; if on a Wednesday, Budāra or Budāre, which changes among Pariahs to Mudāra or Mudāru; if on a Thursday, Guruva or Guruvu; if on a Friday, Tukra (Shukra) or Tukru; and if on a Saturday, Taniya (Saniya) or Taniyaru. Other common names include Lakkana (Lakshmana), Krishna, Subba, and Korapulu (Koraga woman). Those who can afford it often hire a Brāhman priest to determine if the baby is born lucky or unlucky, and in the latter case, they advise the barber to offer something to the guardian deity or the nine planets, or to appease the village deity if it's discovered that the child was born under an unfavorable influence. No lullaby should be sung while rocking the baby for the first time in a cradle, maybe because if the very first rocking is done joyfully, some evil spirit may envy the human happiness and spoil their joy.

The initiation of a boy into the mysteries of his hereditary profession takes place between the tenth and the fourteenth year. In very rare cases, nowadays, a boy is sent to school between the sixth and eighth year. These occasions are marked by offerings of cocoanuts and plantains to the village deity.

The initiation of a boy into the secrets of his family profession happens between the ages of ten and fourteen. In very rare cases today, a boy is sent to school between the ages of six and eight. These events are noted by offerings of coconuts and plantains to the village spirit.

With boys marriage takes place between the sixteenth and twenty-fifth year, with girls before or after puberty. Matches are made by selection on the part of the parents. Lads are sometimes allowed to choose their own brides, but their choice is subject to the approval of the parents, as it must necessarily be in a joint family. Bridegrooms have to pay for their brides a dowry varying from twenty to fifty rupees, and sometimes as much as a hundred rupees. Deformed girls, however, fetch no price; on the other hand, they have to pay some pecuniary inducement to the bridegroom. Widows are allowed, and, when young, encouraged to remarry. The most essential condition of a valid marriage is that the contracting parties should belong to different baris or balis (exogamous [273]septs). As examples of the names of these balis, the following may be cited: Bangāru (gold), Sālia (weaver), Uppa (salt), Kombara (cap made of areca palm leaf), Karimbara (sugar-cane). Horoscopes are not consulted for the suitability or future prosperity of a match, but the day and hour, or lagnam of a marriage are always fixed by a Brāhman priest with reference to the conjunction of stars. The marriage lasts for three days, and takes place in the house of the bridegroom. This is in accordance with the primitive conception of marriage as a bringing away by force or procuring a bride from her parents, rather than with the current Brāhman idea that the bridegroom should be invited, and the girl given away as a present, and committed to his custody and protection. The marriage ceremony takes place in a pandal (booth) on a raised or conspicuous place adorned with various figures or mandala. The pair are made to sit on a bench, and rice is sprinkled on their heads. A barber then shaves the chin and forehead of the bridegroom, the hair border being in the form of a broken pointed arch converging upwards. He also touches the bride’s cheeks with the razor, with the object of removing what is called monetha kale, the stain on the face. The full import of this ceremony is not clear, but the barbers look upon the act as purificatory. If a girl has not come of age at the time of marriage, it is done on the occasion of the nuptials. If she has, the barber, in addition to touching the cheeks with the razor, goes to her house, sprinkles some water over her with a betel leaf, and makes her touch the pot in which rice is to be cooked in her husband’s house. At the bridegroom’s house, before the assembled guests, elders, and headman of the caste, the man and the girl are linked together in the marriage bond by having water (dhāre) poured on their joined hands. Next, the right [274]hands of the pair being joined (kaipattāvane), the bridegroom leads the bride to her future home.

With boys, marriage typically happens between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five, while for girls, it occurs before or after puberty. Parents usually arrange the matches. Sometimes, young men can choose their brides, but their choice must be approved by the parents, especially in a joint family setting. Grooms are required to pay a dowry for their brides, which can range from twenty to fifty rupees, and sometimes even as much as a hundred rupees. Deformed girls, however, don’t receive a dowry; instead, they may have to offer some financial incentive to the groom. Young widows are allowed, and often encouraged, to remarry. A key requirement for a valid marriage is that the couple must belong to different baris or balis (exogamous septs). Some examples of these balis include Bangāru (gold), Sālia (weaver), Uppa (salt), Kombara (cap made of areca palm leaf), and Karimbara (sugar-cane). Horoscopes aren't consulted for determining the suitability or future success of a match, but the day and hour, or lagnam, for the wedding are always set by a Brāhman priest based on the alignment of stars. The marriage ceremony lasts for three days and is held at the groom's home. This follows the traditional view of marriage as taking a bride from her parents, rather than the modern Brāhman perspective that the groom should be invited and the bride given as a gift for his care and protection. The wedding takes place in a pandal (booth) set up in a prominent location, decorated with various designs or mandalas. The couple sits on a bench while rice is sprinkled on their heads. A barber then shaves the bridegroom's chin and forehead, leaving the hairline in a broken pointed arch shape that points upward. He also lightly touches the bride's cheeks with the razor to remove what is known as monetha kale, a stain on the face. The full meaning of this ritual isn't entirely clear, but barbers view it as a purifying act. If a girl is not yet of age at the time of the wedding, this ritual takes place during the ceremony. If she is of age, the barber goes to her home, sprinkles some water over her using a betel leaf, and makes her touch the pot that will be used to cook rice in her husband’s house. At the groom's home, in front of the gathered guests, family elders, and the caste headman, the couple is united in marriage by having water (dhāre) poured over their joined hands. Then, with their right hands joined (kaipattāvane), the groom leads the bride to her new home.

Soon after a death occurs, a barber is summoned, who sprinkles water on the corpse, and touches it with a razor if it be of a male. In every ceremony performed by him, the barber must have recourse to his razor, even as the Brāhman priest cannot do without his kūsa grass. The rich burn their dead, and the poor bury them. Persons dying of infectious diseases are always buried. Prior to the removal of the corpse to the cremation or burial ground, all the clothes on and about it, with the exception of one cloth to cover it from head to foot, are removed and distributed to Pariahs, who have prepared the pyre or dug the grave. Before the mourners return from the cemetery, they light four lamps in halves of cocoanuts, and leave them burning on the spot. Coming home, the chief mourner places in the hands of the Gurukāra or headman of the caste a jewel or other valuable article as a security that he will duly perform all the funeral rites. This is termed sāvuotti dipunā. The Gurukāra, in the presence of the relations and friends assembled, returns the same, enjoining its recipient to be prepared to perform the requisite rites, even with the proceeds of the sale of the pledged article if necessary. The eleventh day is the sāvu or principal mourning day, on which the headman and elders of the caste, as well as the friends and relations of the deceased ought to be present. On the spot where the deceased expired, or as near thereto as possible, an ornamental square scaffolding is erected, and covered with cloth coloured with turmeric. The ground below the scaffolding is covered with various figures, and flowers and green leaves are strewn on it. Each mourner throws on this spot handfuls of cooked rice, coloured yellow and red, and cries out “Oh! uncle, [275]I cry murrio,” or “Oh! father, I cry murrio,” and so on, according to the relationship in which the deceased stood to the mourner. This ceremony is called murrio korpuna, or crying alas. In well-to-do families it is usual to accompany this with devil-dancing. On the twelfth day, rice is offered to crows, the original belief apparently being that the spirits of the deceased enter into birds or beasts, so that food given to these may happen to reach and propitiate them. On the night of the thirteenth day, the relations of the deceased set apart a plantain leaf for the spirit of the departed, serve cooked rice on it, and, joining their hands, pray that the soul may be gathered unto its ancestors, and rest in peace. The anniversary of the death, called agel, is celebrated by placing cooked rice on two plantain leaves placed over sacrificial twigs, and burning incense and waving lamps before it. This is called soma dipunā.

Soon after someone dies, a barber is called in. He sprinkles water on the body and, if it's a man, touches it with a razor. Every ritual he performs involves his razor, just like a Brahmin priest can't do without his kusa grass. Wealthy people cremate their dead, while poorer ones bury them. Those who die from infectious diseases are always buried. Before transporting the body to the cremation or burial site, all clothing except for a cloth that completely covers the body is removed and given to Pariahs, who prepared the pyre or dug the grave. Before the mourners leave the cemetery, they light four lamps in halves of coconuts and leave them burning at the spot. Upon returning home, the chief mourner gives a jewel or other valuable object to the Gurukāra, or headman of the caste, as a guarantee that he will perform all the funeral rites properly. This is known as sāvuotti dipunā. In front of the gathered family and friends, the Gurukāra returns the item, reminding the recipient to be ready to perform the necessary rituals, even if it means selling the pledged item. The eleventh day is the sāvu or main mourning day, which the headman, elders of the caste, and friends and relatives of the deceased should attend. An ornamental square structure is erected at the place where the deceased passed away, or as close as possible, and is covered with cloth dyed with turmeric. The ground beneath this structure is decorated with various patterns, and flowers and green leaves are scattered on it. Each mourner throws handfuls of cooked rice, colored yellow and red, onto this spot and calls out, “Oh! uncle, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] I cry murrio,” or “Oh! father, I cry murrio,” depending on their relationship to the deceased. This ritual is called murrio korpuna, or crying alas. In wealthier families, this is often accompanied by devil dancing. On the twelfth day, rice is offered to crows, based on the belief that the spirits of the deceased may enter birds or animals, so providing food for them could reach and appease the spirits. On the evening of the thirteenth day, the family of the deceased sets out a plantain leaf for the spirit, serves cooked rice on it, and prays with their hands joined, asking that the soul may join its ancestors and rest in peace. The anniversary of the death, known as agel, is marked by placing cooked rice on two plantain leaves resting on sacrificial twigs, burning incense, and waving lamps before it. This is called soma dipunā.

The family god of the barber is Krishna of Udipi, and the high-priest to whom he pays homage is the Saniyāsi (religious ascetic), who for the time being worships that god. The same high-priest is also the final court of appeal from the decisions of the village council of the barbers in matters relating to caste and religion. The powers which are ever present to the barber’s mind, and which he always dreads and tries to propitiate, are the village demons, and the departed spirits of members of his own family. If a child falls ill, he hastens to the Brāhman seer, to learn who is offended, and how the spirit should be appeased. If his cow does not eat hay, he anxiously enquires to which demon he should carry a cock. If the rain fails or the crops are poor, he hies to the nearest deity with cocoanuts, plantains, and the tender spikes of areca. In case of serious illness, he undertakes a vow to beg from door to door on certain [276]days, and convey the money thus accumulated to Tirupati. In his house, he keeps a small closed box with a slit in the lid, through which he drops a coin at every pinch of misfortune, and the contents are eventually sent to that holy place.

The family god of the barber is Krishna of Udipi, and the high priest he honors is the Saniyāsi (religious ascetic), who is currently worshiping that god. This same high priest is also the ultimate authority that the village council of barbers turns to in matters of caste and religion. The forces that constantly worry the barber, which he tries to appease, are the village demons and the spirits of his deceased relatives. If a child gets sick, he rushes to the Brāhman seer to find out who is offended and how to make things right with the spirit. If his cow refuses to eat hay, he anxiously asks which demon he needs to offer a cock to. If there's a drought or poor crop yields, he quickly goes to the nearest deity with coconuts, plantains, and young areca nut spikes. In the case of a serious illness, he commits to begging from door to door on specific [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] days, and he promises to take the money he collects to Tirupati. In his home, he keeps a small locked box with a slit in the lid, through which he drops a coin during tough times, and eventually, the contents are sent to that holy place.

The affairs of the community are regulated by a council of elders. In every village, or for every group of houses, there is an hereditary Gurukāra or headman of the barbers, who is assisted by four Moktesars. If any of these five authorities receives a complaint, he gives notice to the others, and a meeting is arranged to take place in some house. When there is a difference of opinion, the opinion of the majority decides the issue. When a decision cannot be arrived at, the question is referred to the council of another village. If this does not settle the point at issue, the final appeal lies to the Swāmi of the the Udipi temple. The council inquires into alleged offences against caste, and punishes them. It declares what marriages are valid, and what not. It not only preserves discipline within the community itself, but takes notice of external affairs affecting the well-being of the community. Thus, if the pipers refuse to make music at their marriage processions, the council resolves that no barber shall shave a piper. Disputes concerning civil rights were once submitted to these councils, but, as their decisions are not now binding, aggrieved parties seek justice from courts of law.

The community's affairs are managed by a council of elders. In each village, or for every cluster of houses, there is a hereditary Gurukāra or headman of the barbers, who is supported by four Moktesars. If any of these five officials receives a complaint, they notify the others, and a meeting is set up to take place in someone's home. When there's a disagreement, the majority opinion decides the outcome. If a decision can't be reached, the issue is referred to the council of another village. If that doesn't resolve the matter, the final appeal goes to the Swāmi of the Udipi temple. The council investigates alleged caste violations and imposes penalties. It determines which marriages are valid and which are not. It not only maintains discipline within the community but also addresses external issues impacting the community's welfare. For example, if the pipers refuse to play music at their wedding processions, the council rules that no barber shall shave a piper. Disputes over civil rights were once brought to these councils, but since their decisions are no longer binding, those affected seek justice in court.

Punishments consist of compensation for minor offences affecting individuals, and of fine or excommunication if the offence affects the whole community. If the accused does not attend the trial, he may be excommunicated for contempt of authority. If the person seeks re-admission into the caste, he has to pay a fine, which goes to the treasury of the temple at Udipi. The [277]presiding Swāmi at the shrine accepts the fine, and issues a writ authorising the re-admission of the penitent offender. The headman collects the fine to be forwarded to the Swāmi, and, if he is guilty of any mal-practice, the whole community, generally called the ten, may take cognisance of the offence. Offences against marriage relations, shaving low caste people, and such like, are all visited with fine, which is remitted to the Swāmi, from whom purification is obtained. The power of the village councils, however, has greatly declined in recent years, as the class of cases in which their decision can be enforced is practically very small.

Punishments involve compensation for minor offenses that affect individuals and a fine or excommunication if the offense impacts the entire community. If the accused doesn't show up for the trial, they can be excommunicated for disrespecting authority. To be readmitted into the caste, the person has to pay a fine which goes to the temple treasury in Udipi. The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] presiding Swāmi at the shrine accepts the fine and issues a document allowing the offending individual to be readmitted. The headman collects the fine to send to the Swāmi, and if they are guilty of any wrongdoing, the entire community, usually referred to as the ten, may address the offense. Offenses related to marriage, shaving low caste individuals, and similar matters are all subjected to fines, which are submitted to the Swāmi, from whom purification is granted. However, the authority of the village councils has significantly decreased in recent years, as the types of cases they can enforce decisions on are now extremely limited.

The Tulu barbers, like many other castes on the western coast, follow the aliya santāna system of inheritance (in the female line). The tradition in South Canara is that this, and a number of other customs, were imposed upon certain castes by Bhūtāla Pāndya. The story relates that Dēva Pāndya, a merchant of the Pāndya kingdom, once had some new ships built, but before they put to sea, the demon Kundodara demanded a human sacrifice. The merchant asked his wife to spare one of her seven sons for the purpose, but she refused to be a party to the sacrifice, and went away with her sons to her father’s house. The merchant’s sister thereupon offered her son. Kundodara, however, was so very pleased with the appearance of this son that he spared his life, and made him a king, whose sway extended over Tuluva. This king was called Bhūtāla Pāndya, and he, being directed by Kundodara, imposed upon the people the system of nephew inheritance.

The Tulu barbers, like many other groups along the western coast, follow the aliya santāna system of inheritance (through the female line). In South Canara, there’s a tradition that this and several other customs were imposed on certain groups by Bhūtāla Pāndya. The story goes that Dēva Pāndya, a merchant from the Pāndya kingdom, had some new ships built, but before they could set sail, the demon Kundodara demanded a human sacrifice. The merchant asked his wife to let go of one of their seven sons for the sacrifice, but she refused to participate and took her sons to her father’s house. The merchant’s sister then offered her son. However, Kundodara was so impressed with this boy that he spared his life and made him a king, ruling over Tuluva. This king was known as Bhūtāla Pāndya, and under Kundodara's guidance, he imposed the system of nephew inheritance on the people.

The barber is changing with the times. He now seldom uses the old unfoldable wooden-handled razor forged by the village blacksmith, but has gone in for what he calls Rāja sri (royal fortune; corruption of [278]Rodgers) razors. He believes that he is polluted by the operation which it is his lot to perform, and, on his return home from his morning round, he must bathe and put on washed clothes.

The barber is adapting to the times. He hardly ever uses the old foldable wooden-handled razor made by the village blacksmith anymore, but has switched to what he calls Rāja sri (royal fortune; a twist on [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Rodgers) razors. He thinks that his work leaves him tainted, so when he gets home from his morning rounds, he has to take a bath and change into clean clothes.

Ken.—Ken (red) and Kenja (red ant) have both been recorded as gōtras of Kurni.

Ken.—Ken (red) and Kenja (red ant) have both been noted as gōtras of Kurni.

Kenna.—A division of Toda.

Kenna.—A part of Toda.

Kēpumāri.—It is noted, in the Gazetteer of South Arcot, that “the Kēpumāris are one of the several foreign communities from other districts, who help to swell the total of the criminal classes in South Arcot. Their head-quarters is at Tiruvallūr in the Chingleput district, but there is a settlement of them at Māriyānkuppam (not far from Porto Novo), and another large detachment at Kunisampet in French territory. They commit much the same class of crime as the Donga Dāsaris, frequenting railway trains and crowded gatherings, and they avert suspicion by their respectable appearance and pleasant manners. Their house-language is Telugu. They call themselves Alagiri Kēpumāris. The etymology of the second of these two words is not free from doubt, but the first of them is said to be derived from Alagar, the god of the Kallans, whose temple at the foot of the hills about twelve miles north of Madura town is a well-known place of pilgrimage, and to whom these people, and other criminal fraternities annually offer a share of their ill-gotten gains.” Information concerning the criminal methods of these people, under the name Capemari, will be found in Mr. F. S. Mullaly’s ‘Notes on Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.’

Kēpumāri.—The Gazetteer of South Arcot notes that “the Kēpumāris are one of several foreign communities from other districts who contribute to the overall criminal population in South Arcot. Their main base is at Tiruvallūr in the Chingleput district, but there’s a settlement at Māriyānkuppam (not far from Porto Novo) and a large group at Kunisampet in French territory. They engage in similar crimes as the Donga Dāsaris, often found on trains and in crowded places, and they avoid suspicion with their respectable appearance and friendly demeanor. Their household language is Telugu. They refer to themselves as Alagiri Kēpumāris. The meaning of the second word is somewhat uncertain, but the first is believed to come from Alagar, the god of the Kallans, whose temple, located about twelve miles north of Madura town, is a famous pilgrimage site, and to whom these individuals and other criminal groups yearly give a portion of their stolen wealth.” For more information about the criminal methods of these people, referred to as Capemari, see Mr. F. S. Mullaly’s ‘Notes on Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.’

Kērala.—Defined by Mr. Wigram130 as “the western coast from Gokarnam to Cape Comorin, comprising [279]Travancore, Cochin, Malabar, and part of South Canara.”

Kērala.—Defined by Mr. Wigram130 as “the western coast from Gokarnam to Cape Comorin, including [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Travancore, Cochin, Malabar, and part of South Canara.”

Kērē (tank).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kērē (tank).—A clan of Kurni.

Kēsari (lion).—A gōtra of Kurni.

Kēsari (lion).—A clan of Kurni.

Kēthaki (Pandanus fascicularis).—An exogamous sept of Stānika.

Kēthaki (Pandanus fascicularis).—An exogamous group of Stānika.

Kethri.See Khatri.

Kethri.Check out Khatri.

Kēvuto.—It is recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that “the Kēvutas are the fisherman caste of Ganjam, and they are said to be the descendants of the Kaibartas, a fishing caste of Bengal. Besides fishing in rivers, canals and lakes, they ply boats and catamarans, and some are also traders. Uriya Brāhmans and Bairāgis are their priests. From the fifth day after child-birth till the twenty-first, the Uriya Brāhmans read the Bhāgavata Purāna in the house, and on the last day they give a name to the child. The married girls and widows put a veil over their faces whenever they go out of doors.”

Kēvuto.—According to the Madras Census Report of 1891, “the Kēvutas are a fishing community in Ganjam, believed to be descendants of the Kaibartas, a fishing caste from Bengal. They fish in rivers, canals, and lakes, operate boats and catamarans, and some also engage in trade. Uriya Brāhmans and Bairāgis serve as their priests. From the fifth to the twenty-first day after a child is born, the Uriya Brāhmans read the Bhāgavata Purāna at home, and on the final day, they bestow a name on the child. Married women and widows cover their faces with a veil whenever they go outside.”

The Kēvutos are low in the social scale, but not a polluting caste. They apparently recognise the following endogamous sub-divisions:—Bhettiya, Bilva, Jonka, Khottia, Koibarto or Dasa, Liyāri, Chuditiya, and Thossa. Of these the Thossas are cultivators, the Liyāris make a preparation of fried rice (liya), and the Chudityas are engaged in parching grain (chuda, parched rice). By reason of their change of occupation, the Liyāris and Chudityas have practically become distinct castes, and some deny that there is any connection between them and the Kēvutos. Telugu people sometimes call the Chuditiyas Neyyalu, and I am told that there is a street in Parlakimedi almost wholly inhabited by Kēvutos, who say that they are of the Neyyalu caste. [280]

The Kēvutos are considered low on the social ladder, but they aren’t seen as a polluting caste. They seem to acknowledge several endogamous sub-groups: Bhettiya, Bilva, Jonka, Khottia, Koibarto or Dasa, Liyāri, Chuditiya, and Thossa. Among these, the Thossas are farmers, the Liyāris prepare a dish of fried rice (liya), and the Chudityas are involved in parching grain (chuda, parched rice). Due to changes in their occupations, the Liyāris and Chudityas have essentially become distinct castes, and some argue that there’s no connection between them and the Kēvutos. Telugu people sometimes refer to the Chudityas as Neyyalu, and I’ve heard there’s a street in Parlakimedi that’s almost exclusively occupied by Kēvutos, who claim to belong to the Neyyalu caste. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Of gōtras which occur among the Kēvutos, nāgo (cobra), bhāgo (tiger), and kochipo (tortoise) are the most common. They also have exogamous septs or bamsams, among which are gogudiya (bells) and nolini (bamboo carrier). The titles which occur in the caste are Bēhara, Sitto, Torei, Jalli, Bejjo, and Paiko.

Of gōtras found among the Kēvutos, nāgo (cobra), bhāgo (tiger), and kochipo (tortoise) are the most common. They also have exogamous septs or bamsams, including gogudiya (bells) and nolini (bamboo carrier). The titles that appear in the caste are Bēhara, Sitto, Torei, Jalli, Bejjo, and Paiko.

The marriage rite is performed at night, and the bride’s father ties a gold bead (konti) on the neck of the bridegroom. The Kēvutos worship especially Dasarāj and Gangadēvi. The latter is worshipped at the Dasara festival, and, in some places, fowls and goats are sacrificed in her honour. In the neighbourhood of the Chilka lake, the goats are not sacrificed, but set at liberty, and allowed to graze on the Kālikadēvi hill. There is a belief that animals thus devoted to Gangadēvi do not putrify when they die, but dry up.

The wedding ceremony takes place at night, and the bride’s father places a gold bead (konti) around the groom's neck. The Kēvutos specifically worship Dasarāj and Gangadēvi. The latter is honored during the Dasara festival, and in some areas, fowls and goats are sacrificed in her name. Near Chilka Lake, however, the goats are not sacrificed; instead, they are set free and allowed to graze on Kālikadēvi hill. There is a belief that animals dedicated to Gangadēvi do not decompose when they die, but rather dry up.

In the Vizagapatam Agency tracts, the Kēvutos are said to be notorious for their proficiency in magic and necromancy.

In the Vizagapatam Agency areas, the Kēvutos are known for their skill in magic and necromancy.

Khadi.—A sub-division of Telli.

Khadi.—A subdivision of Telli.

Khadiya.—A name, said to be derived from ghatiyal, meaning a person possessed, and used as a term of reproach for Kudumis of Travancore.

Khadiya.—A name thought to come from ghatiyal, meaning someone who is possessed, and used as an insult for Kudumis of Travancore.

Khajjaya (cake).—An exogamous sept of Vakkaliga.

Khajjaya (cake).—An exogamous group of Vakkaliga.

Kharvi.—The Kharvis are described, in the South Canara Manual, as “Marāthi fishermen, who migrated to this district from the Bombay Presidency. The name Kharvi is said to be a corrupt form of the Sanskrit kshār, salt. They are hardworking but thriftless, and much given to drink, chiefly toddy. They are sea-fishermen and good sailors, and also work as domestic servants and labourers. They employ Havīk Brāhmans to perform their marriage and other ceremonies. The head of the Sringēri Math is their spiritual teacher.” [281]

Kharvi.—The Kharvis are described in the South Canara Manual as “Marāthi fishermen who moved to this area from the Bombay Presidency. The name Kharvi is thought to be a corrupted version of the Sanskrit word kshār, meaning salt. They are hardworking but not very good with money and tend to drink a lot, mostly toddy. They are sea fishermen and skilled sailors, and they also work as domestic helpers and laborers. They hire Havīk Brāhmans to conduct their weddings and other ceremonies. The head of the Sringēri Math serves as their spiritual leader.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Kharvis are Konkani-speaking fishermen and cultivators, found in the Kundapūr tāluk of South Canara. Those who are not engaged in fishing always wear the sacred thread, whereas the fishermen wear it for seven days from the Srāvana Hunnami, or full-moon day of the month Srāvana (August-September), and then remove it. All are Saivites, and disciples of the Sringēri mutt. Ajai Masti and Nagu Masti are the deities specially worshipped by them. They follow the makkala santāna law of inheritance (from father to son). Their headmen are called Sāranga or Patēl, and these names are used as titles by members of the families of the headmen. The assistant to the headman is styled Naik or Naicker.

The Kharvis are Konkani-speaking fishermen and farmers located in the Kundapūr area of South Canara. Those who don’t fish always wear the sacred thread, while fishermen wear it for seven days starting from the Srāvana Hunnami, or the full-moon day in the month of Srāvana (August-September), and then take it off. They are all followers of Shaivism and students of the Sringēri mutt. Ajai Masti and Nagu Masti are the deities they particularly worship. They follow the makkala santāna law of inheritance (from father to son). Their leaders are called Sāranga or Patēl, and these titles are used by members of the headmen's families. The headman’s assistant is referred to as Naik or Naicker.

For the performance of the marriage ceremonial, Shivalli or Kota Brāhmans are engaged. The dhāre form of marriage (see Bant) is observed, but there are a few points of detail, which may be noted. Five women decorate the bride inside her house just before she comes to the marriage pandal (booth), and tie on her neck a gold bead (dhāre mani) and black beads. At the pandal she stands in front of the bridegroom, separated from him by a screen, which is stretched between them. Garlands of tulsi (Ocimum sanctum) are exchanged, and the screen is removed. Bāshingams (chaplets) are tied on the foreheads of the bridal pair at the outset of the ceremonial, and are worn for five days.

For the marriage ceremony, Shivalli or Kota Brāhmans are involved. The dhāre type of marriage (see Bant) is followed, but there are some details worth noting. Five women decorate the bride inside her home just before she goes to the marriage booth (pandal), and they place a gold bead (dhāre mani) and black beads around her neck. At the booth, she stands in front of the groom, separated by a screen stretched between them. They exchange garlands of tulsi (Ocimum sanctum), and then the screen is taken away. Bāshingams (chaplets) are tied on the foreheads of the couple at the beginning of the ceremony and are worn for five days.

The dead are cremated, and, in most cases, the ashes are thrown into a river. But, among the orthodox, they are taken to Gokarna, and thrown into the river at that place. On the eleventh day, presents are made to Brāhmans after purification. On the following day, food is offered on two leaves to the soul of the deceased. [282]

The dead are cremated, and usually, the ashes are scattered in a river. However, among the orthodox, they are taken to Gokarna and scattered in that river. On the eleventh day, gifts are given to Brāhmans after purification. The next day, food is offered on two leaves to the soul of the deceased. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

One of the leaves is thrown into water, and the other given to a cow or bull.

One leaf is thrown into the water, and the other is given to a cow or bull.

Khāsa.—It is noted by the Rev. J. Cain131 that “members of this caste are found chiefly in attendance on zamindars and other rich people, and report says that they are not unfrequently their illegitimate children.” Khāsa is synonymous with Ādapāpa (q.v.).

Khāsa.—Rev. J. Cain noted that “members of this caste mostly serve zamindars and other wealthy individuals, and reports suggest that they are often their illegitimate children.” Khāsa is synonymous with Ādapāpa (q.v.).

Khāsgi.—Marāthas, of whom a few families constitute the aristocracy in the Sandūr State.

Khāsgi.—Marathas, with a few families forming the elite in the Sandur State.

Khatri.—The Khatris are described by Mr. Lewis Rice132 as “silk weavers, who in manners, customs, and language are akin to Patvēgars, but they do not intermarry with them, although the two castes eat together. The Katris claim to be Kshatriyas, and quote Rēnuka Purāna as their authority. The legend is that, during the general massacre of the Kshatriyas by Parasu Rāma, five women, each of whom was big with child, escaped, and took refuge in a temple dedicated to Kāli. When the children came of age, their marriages were celebrated, and their mothers prayed to Kāli to point out some means of livelihood. In answer to their supplications, the goddess gave them looms, and taught them weaving and dyeing. The Katris claim descent from these refugees, and follow the same trades.”

Khatri.—Mr. Lewis Rice describes the Khatris as “silk weavers who, in terms of their manners, customs, and language, are similar to Patvēgars, but they don’t intermarry with them, even though the two castes often share meals together. The Khatris assert that they are Kshatriyas and cite the Rēnuka Purāna as their source. According to their legend, during the widespread massacre of the Kshatriyas by Parasu Rāma, five pregnant women managed to escape and sought refuge in a temple dedicated to Kāli. When their children grew up, their marriages were arranged, and their mothers prayed to Kāli for guidance on how to support themselves. In response to their prayers, the goddess provided them with looms and taught them how to weave and dye. The Khatris trace their ancestry back to these refugees and continue to practice the same trades.”

The following note relates to the Khatris of Conjeeveram, where most of them trade in silk thread, silk sashes, and dye-stuffs. Some deal in human hair, which is used by native females as a chignon. By reason of their connection with the silk industry, the Khatris are called Patnūlkāran by other castes. The true Patnūlkārans are called Kōshta by the Khatris. The Khatris give Bhuja Rāja Kshatriya as their caste name, and [283]some say that they are the descendants of one Karta Virya Arjuna of the human race. Their tribal deity is Renukāmba, the mother of Parasu Rāma, to whom pongal (boiled rice) is offered, and a goat sacrificed in the month of Thai (January-February). They have exogamous septs, such as Sulēgar, Powar, Mudugal, Sonappa, Bojagiri, etc., and have adopted the same Brāhmanical gōtras as the Bhāts or Bhatrāzus, e.g., Gautama, Kāsyapa, Vasishta, and Bhāradwaja. Attached to them is a caste beggar, called Bhāt, who comes round at long intervals. He is said to keep the genealogies of the Khatri families. He ties a flag to a post of the house at which he intends to claim a meal, and, after partaking thereof, he receives information concerning the births and marriages, which have taken place in the family since his last visit. Girls are married both before and after puberty, and infant marriage is fashionable at the present day. The remarriage of widows is permitted, but a divorced woman may not marry again so long as her husband is alive. A man may not marry the widow of his brother, or of an agnate. The custom of mēnarikam, by which a man may marry his maternal uncle’s daughter, is prohibited. Families belonging to one sept may give their daughters in marriage to men of another sept, from which, however, they are not allowed to receive girls as wives for their sons. For example, a man of a Sulēgar sept may give his daughters in marriage to men of the Powar sept, but may not take Powar girls as wives for his sons. But a certain elasticity in the rule is allowed, and the prohibition ceases after a certain number of generations by arrangement with the Bhāt. The marriage ceremonies last over seven days. On the first day, the deity Bharkodēv, who is represented [284]by seven quartz pebbles placed in a row on plantain leaves, is worshipped with offerings of fruit, etc., and a goat is sacrificed. The blood which flows from its cut neck is poured into a vessel containing cooked rice, of which seven balls are made, and offered to the pebbles. Towards evening some of the rice is thrown to the four cardinal points of the compass, in order to conciliate evil spirits. On the second day, the house is thoroughly cleansed with cow-dung water, and the walls are whitewashed. The eating of meat is forbidden until the marriage ceremonies are concluded. The third day is devoted to the erection of the marriage pandal (booth) and milk-post, and the worship of female ancestors (savāsne). Seven married women are selected, and presented with white rāvikes (bodices) dyed with turmeric. After bathing, they are sumptuously fed. Before the feast, the bridegroom’s and sometimes the bride’s mother, goes to a well, tank (pond) or river, carrying on a tray a new woman’s cloth, on which a silver plate with a female figure embossed on it is placed. Another silver plate of the same kind, newly made, is brought by a goldsmith, and the two are worshipped, and then taken to the house, where they are kept in a box. The bridegroom and his party go in procession through the streets in which their fellow castemen live. When they reach the house of the bride, her mother comes out and waves coloured water to avert the evil eye, washes the bridegroom’s eyes with water, and presents him with betel and a vessel filled with milk. The bride is then conducted to the bridegroom’s house, where she takes her seat on a decorated plank, and a gold or silver ornament called sari or kanti is placed on her neck. She is further presented with a new cloth. A Brāhman purōhit then writes the names [285]of the contracting parties, and the date of their marriage, on two pieces of palm leaf or paper, which he hands over to their fathers. The day closes with the performance of gondala pūja, for which a device (muggu) is made on the ground with yellow, red, and white powders. A brass vessel is set in the centre thereof, and four earthen pots are placed at the corners. Pūja (worship) is done, and certain stanzas are recited amid the beating of a pair of large cymbals. On the fourth day, the bridal couple bathe, and the bridegroom is invested with the sacred thread. They then go to the place where the metal plates representing the ancestors are kept, with a cloth thrown over the head like a hood, and some milk and cooked rice are placed near the plates. On their way back they, in order to avert the evil eye, place their right feet on a pair of small earthen plates tied together, and placed near the threshold. The bride’s mother gives the bridegroom some cakes and milk, after partaking of which he goes in procession through the streets, and a further ceremony for averting the evil eye is performed in front of the bride’s house. This over, he goes to the pandal, where his feet are washed by his father-in-law, who places in his hands a piece of plantain fruit, over which his mother-in-law pours some milk. The bride and bridegroom then go into the house, where the latter ties the tāli on the neck of the former. During the tying ceremony, the couple are separated by a cloth screen, of which the lower end is lifted up. The screen is removed, and they sit facing each other with their bashingams (forehead chaplets) in contact, and rice is thrown over their heads by their relations. The Brāhman hands the contracting couple the wrist-threads (kankanams), which they tie on. These threads are, among most castes, tied at an earlier stage in the [286]marriage ceremonies. On the fifth day, seven betel nuts are placed in a row on a plank within the pandal, round which the bride and bridegroom go seven times. At the end of each round, the latter lifts the right foot of the former, and sweeps off one of the nuts. For every marriage, a fee of Rs. 12–5–0 must be paid to the headman of the caste, and the money thus accumulated is spent on matters such as the celebration of festivals, which affect the entire community. If the fee is not paid, the bride and bridegroom are not permitted to go round the plank the seventh time. On the sixth day, the bride receives presents from her family, and there is a procession at night. On the last day of the ceremonies, the bride is handed over to her mother-in-law by her mother, who says “I am giving you a melon and a knife. Deal with them as you please.” The bride is taken inside the house by the mother-in-law and shown some pots containing rice into which she dips her right hand, saying that they are full. The mother-in-law then presents her with a gold finger-ring, and the two eat together as a sign of their new relationship.

The following note relates to the Khatris of Conjeeveram, where most of them trade in silk thread, silk sashes, and dyes. Some deal in human hair, which is used by local women to create chignons. Because of their ties to the silk industry, the Khatris are referred to as Patnūlkāran by other castes. The true Patnūlkārans are known as Kōshta by the Khatris. The Khatris identify themselves as Bhuja Rāja Kshatriya, and some claim they are descendants of Karta Virya Arjuna from the human race. Their tribal deity is Renukāmba, the mother of Parasu Rāma, to whom they offer pongal (boiled rice) and sacrifice a goat in the month of Thai (January-February). They have exogamous groups, such as Sulēgar, Powar, Mudugal, Sonappa, Bojagiri, etc., and they have adopted the same Brahmanical gōtras as the Bhāts or Bhatrāzus, like Gautama, Kāsyapa, Vasishta, and Bhāradwaja. Associated with them is a caste beggar called Bhāt, who comes around infrequently. He is said to keep track of the genealogies of Khatri families. He ties a flag to a post of the house where he intends to claim a meal, and after eating, he gathers information about births and marriages that have occurred in the family since his last visit. Girls are married both before and after puberty, and infant marriage is currently popular. Remarriage of widows is allowed, but a divorced woman cannot marry again as long as her husband is alive. A man is not allowed to marry his brother's widow or that of a close male relative. The custom of mēnarikam, which allows a man to marry his maternal uncle’s daughter, is prohibited. Families from one group may marry their daughters to men from another group, but they are not allowed to receive girls as wives for their sons in return. For example, a Sulēgar man can give his daughters to Powar men but cannot take Powar girls as wives for his sons. However, some flexibility in this rule exists, and the prohibition may be lifted after a certain number of generations with the agreement of the Bhāt. The marriage ceremonies last for seven days. On the first day, the deity Bharkodēv, represented by seven quartz pebbles arranged in a row on plantain leaves, is worshipped with offerings of fruit and a goat is sacrificed. The blood from the goat's neck is poured into a vessel with cooked rice, from which seven balls are made and offered to the pebbles. In the evening, some of the rice is thrown to the four cardinal directions to appease evil spirits. On the second day, the house is thoroughly cleaned with cow-dung water, and the walls are whitewashed. Eating meat is prohibited until the marriage ceremonies are over. The third day is dedicated to building the marriage pandal (booth) and milk-post, and honoring female ancestors (savāsne). Seven married women are chosen and given white rāvikes (bodices) dyed with turmeric. After bathing, they are given a lavish meal. Before the feast, the bridegroom’s and sometimes the bride’s mother goes to a well, tank, or river, carrying a new woman’s cloth on a tray with a silver plate bearing a female figure on it. Another similar silver plate is brought by a goldsmith, and both are worshipped before being taken to the house and placed in a box. The bridegroom and his party then parade through the streets where their fellow castemen reside. Upon reaching the bride's house, her mother comes out and waves colored water to ward off the evil eye, washes the bridegroom’s eyes with water, and offers him betel and a vessel of milk. The bride is then brought to the bridegroom’s house, where she sits on a decorated plank, and either a gold or silver ornament called sari or kanti is placed around her neck. She is also given a new cloth. A Brahman purōhit then writes down the names of the couple and the date of their marriage on two pieces of palm leaf or paper, which he hands to their fathers. The day concludes with the performance of gondala pūja, where a design (muggu) is made on the ground with yellow, red, and white powders. A brass vessel is placed in the center, with four earthen pots at the corners. Pūja (worship) is performed, and certain verses are recited to the sound of large cymbals. On the fourth day, the bridal couple bathe, and the bridegroom is given the sacred thread. They then go to the place where the metallic plates representing the ancestors are kept, wearing a cloth over their heads. They place some milk and cooked rice near the plates. On their way back, to ward off the evil eye, they step on a pair of small earthen plates tied together and placed near the threshold. The bride’s mother gives the bridegroom some cakes and milk, after which he parades through the streets, and a further ceremony to avert the evil eye is performed in front of the bride’s house. After that, he goes to the pandal, where his father-in-law washes his feet and gives him a piece of plantain fruit, over which his mother-in-law pours some milk. The bride and bridegroom then enter the house, where the latter ties the tāli around the neck of the former. During the tying ceremony, a cloth screen separates the couple, with the lower end lifted. The screen is then removed, and they sit facing each other with their forehead chaplets (bashingams) touching, while rice is thrown over their heads by their relatives. The Brahman gives the couple wrist-threads (kankanams) to tie on. These threads are generally tied at an earlier stage in the marriage ceremonies in most castes. On the fifth day, seven betel nuts are arranged in a row on a plank within the pandal, and the bride and bridegroom walk around them seven times. At the end of each round, the groom lifts the right foot of the bride and removes one of the nuts. For each marriage, a fee of Rs. 12–5–0 must be paid to the caste headman, and the accumulated money is used for community events and celebrations. If the fee is not paid, the couple cannot complete the seventh round around the plank. On the sixth day, the bride receives gifts from her family, followed by a night procession. On the final day of the ceremonies, the bride’s mother hands her over to her mother-in-law, saying, "I am giving you a melon and a knife. Do with them as you wish." The mother-in-law takes the bride inside, showing her some pots filled with rice, into which she dips her right hand, declaring they are full. The mother-in-law then gives her a gold ring, and they share a meal together to signify their new relationship.

The dead are cremated, and, when a married man dies, his corpse is carried on a palanquin to the burning-ground, followed by the widow. Near the pyre it is laid on the ground, and the widow places her jewelry and glass bangles on the chest. The corpse should be carried by the sons-in-law if possible, and the nomination of the bearers is indicated by the eldest son of the deceased person making a mark on their shoulders with ashes. On the third day after death, the milk ceremony takes place. Three balls of wheat-flour, mixed with honey and milk, are prepared, and placed respectively on the spot where the deceased breathed his last, where the bier was laid on the ground, and at [287]the place where the corpse was burnt, over which milk is poured. The final death ceremonies (karmāndhiram) are observed on the seventh or tenth day, till which time the eating of flesh is forbidden.

The dead are cremated, and when a married man dies, his body is carried on a palanquin to the cremation ground, with the widow following behind. Near the pyre, the body is laid on the ground, and the widow places her jewelry and glass bangles on the chest. If possible, the sons-in-law should carry the body, and the eldest son of the deceased indicates who the bearers will be by marking their shoulders with ashes. On the third day after the death, the milk ceremony takes place. Three balls of wheat flour, mixed with honey and milk, are prepared and placed at the spot where the deceased took their last breath, where the bier was laid on the ground, and at [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the place where the body was cremated, over which milk is poured. The final death ceremonies (karmāndhiram) are held on the seventh or tenth day, during which eating meat is prohibited.

The headman of the Khatris, who is called Grāmani, is elected once a month, and he has an assistant called Vanja, who is appointed annually.

The leader of the Khatris, known as Grāmani, is elected every month, and he has an assistant named Vanja, who is appointed each year.

The Khatris are Saivites, and wear the sacred thread, but also worship various grāma dēvatas (village deities). They speak a dialect of Marāthi. The caste title is Sā, e.g., Dharma Sā.

The Khatris are followers of Shiva and wear the sacred thread, but they also worship various village deities. They speak a dialect of Marathi. Their caste title is Sā, e.g., Dharma Sā.

Kethree is described, in the Vizagapatam Manual, as “the caste of the Zamindar’s family in Jeypore. It is divided into sixteen classes. They wear the paieta (sacred thread), and the Zamindar used formerly to sell the privilege of wearing it to any one who could afford to pay him twelve rupees. Pariahs were excluded from purchasing the privilege.”

Kethree is described in the Vizagapatam Manual as “the caste of the Zamindar’s family in Jeypore. It is divided into sixteen classes. They wear the paieta (sacred thread), and the Zamindar used to sell the privilege of wearing it to anyone who could afford to pay him twelve rupees. Pariahs were not allowed to purchase the privilege.”

The Khatri agriculturists of the Jeypore Agency tracts in Vizagapatam are, Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao informs me, entirely distinct from the weaving Khatris of the south. They are divided into four septs, viz., Surya (Sun), Bhāg (tiger), Kochchimo (tortoise), and Nāg (cobra). Girls are married before puberty, and an Oriya Brāhman officiates at their marriages, instead of the customary Dēsāri. They do not, like other castes in the Agency tracts, give fermented liquor (madho) as part of the jholla tonka or bride-price, which consists of rice, a goat, cloths, etc. The marriage ceremonies are performed at the bride’s house. These Khatris put on the sacred thread for the first time when they are married, and renew it from time to time throughout life. They are fair skinned, and speak the Oriya language. Their usual title is Pātro. [288]

The Khatri farmers in the Jeypore Agency area of Vizagapatam are, according to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao, completely different from the weaving Khatris in the south. They are split into four groups: Surya (Sun), Bhāg (Tiger), Kochchimo (Tortoise), and Nāg (Cobra). Girls are married before they reach puberty, and an Oriya Brāhman officiates at their weddings instead of the usual Dēsāri. Unlike other castes in the Agency area, they do not include fermented liquor (madho) in the jholla tonka or bride-price, which consists of rice, a goat, clothing, and other items. The marriage ceremonies take place at the bride’s home. These Khatris wear the sacred thread for the first time when they get married and renew it periodically throughout their lives. They have fair skin and speak the Oriya language. Their common title is Pātro. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Khinbudi (bear).—A sept of Rōna.

Khinbudi (bear).—A clan of Rōna.

Khodālo.See Bāvuri.

Khodālo.Check out Bāvuri.

Khodikāro.—A name for Panditos, derived from the stone (khodi), with which they write figures on the floor, when making astrological calculations.

Khodikāro.—A term for Panditos, originating from the stone (khodi) they use to draw figures on the floor when performing astrological calculations.

Khodūra.—The name is derived from khodu, bangle. The Khodūras, Mr. Francis writes,133 are “manufacturers of the brass and bell-metal bangles and rings ordinarily worn by the lower class Odiyas. Their headman is called Nahako Sāhu, and under him there are deputies called Dhoyi Nahako and Bēhara. There is a fourth functionary styled Aghopotina, whose peculiar duty is said to be to join in the first meal taken by those who have been excommunicated, and subsequently readmitted into the caste by the caste panchāyat (council). A quaint custom exists, by which honorific titles like Sēnāpati, Mahāpātro, Subuddhi, etc., are sold by the panchāyat to any man of the caste who covets them, and the proceeds sent to Pūri and Pratābpur for the benefit of the temples there. It is said that the original home of the caste was Orissa, and that it came to Ganjam with Purushōttam Dēva, the Māharāja of Pūri. In its general customs it resembles the Badhōyis.” I am informed that the name of the fourth functionary should be Aghopotiria, or first leaf man, i.e., the man who is served first at a public dinner.

Khodūra.—The name comes from khodu, meaning bangle. The Khodūras, Mr. Francis writes,133 are “producers of brass and bell-metal bangles and rings typically worn by the lower-class Odiyas. Their leader is called Nahako Sāhu, and under him are deputies known as Dhoyi Nahako and Bēhara. There is a fourth position called Aghopotina, whose unique role is to participate in the first meal taken by individuals who have been excommunicated and later readmitted into the caste by the caste panchāyat (council). There's an interesting tradition where honorific titles like Sēnāpati, Mahāpātro, Subuddhi, etc., are sold by the panchāyat to any member of the caste who wants them, and the money generated is sent to Pūri and Pratābpur for the benefit of the temples there. It's said that the original home of this caste was Orissa, and that it moved to Ganjam with Purushōttam Dēva, the Māharāja of Pūri. In its general practices, it is similar to the Badhōyis.” I've been told that the name of the fourth position should be Aghopotiria, or first leaf man, i.e., the person who is served first at a public dinner.

Khoira.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a low caste of Oriya cultivators.

Khoira.—Listed in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a lower caste of Oriya farmers.

Khōja.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, eleven Khōjas are recorded as belonging to a Mussalman tribe of traders from Bombay. [289]

Khōja.—According to the Madras Census Report from 1901, eleven Khōjas are listed as part of a Muslim trading community from Bombay. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

For the following note on the Khōjas of Southern India, I am indebted to an article by Dr. J. Shortt.134 “The true Kojahs, or eunuchs, are not numerous in Southern India. They are chiefly to be seen in the houses of wealthy Mussalman nobles, by whom they are placed at the head of their zenanas or harems. The Kojahs are properly divided into two classes: (1) Kojahs; (2) Hijras. Sometimes Hindus, Sūdras, and Brāhmans subject themselves to the operation (of castration), of their own accord from a religious impression. Others, finding themselves naturally impotent, consider it necessary to undergo the operation, to avoid being born again at a future birth in the same helpless state. The operation of castration is generally performed by a class of barbers, sometimes by some of the more intelligent of the eunuchs themselves, in the following manner. The patient is made to sit on an upturned new earthen pot, being previously well drugged with opium or bhang. The entire genitals being seized by the left hand, an assistant, who has a bamboo lath slit in the centre, runs it down quite close to the pubis, the slit firmly embracing the whole of the genitals at the root, when the operator, with a sharp razor, runs it down along the face of the lath, and removes penis, testicles and scrotum in one swoop, leaving a large clean open wound behind, in which boiling gingelly (Sesamum indicum) oil is poured to staunch the bleeding, and the wound covered over with a soft rag steeped in warm oil. This is the only dressing applied to the wound, which is renewed daily, while the patient is confined in a supine position to his bed, and lightly fed with conjee (rice gruel), milk, etc. During the operation, [290]the patient is urged to cry out ‘Dīn’ (the faith in Mahomet) three times.

For the following note on the Khōjas of Southern India, I am indebted to an article by Dr. J. Shortt.134 “The true Kojahs, or eunuchs, are not very common in Southern India. They are mainly found in the households of wealthy Muslim nobles, where they are placed in charge of their zenanas or harems. The Kojahs are divided into two main categories: (1) Kojahs; (2) Hijras. Sometimes Hindus, Sūdras, and Brāhmans choose to undergo the operation (of castration) voluntarily due to religious beliefs. Others, realizing they are naturally impotent, feel it is necessary to have the procedure done to avoid being reborn in the same helpless state in the next life. The castration procedure is usually performed by a group of barbers, although at times it’s done by some of the more skilled eunuchs themselves, in the following manner. The patient sits on a new, turned-over earthen pot and is given a substantial dose of opium or bhang beforehand. The entire genital area is held with the left hand, while an assistant uses a split bamboo stick, pressing it firmly against the base of the genitals. Then, with a sharp razor, the operator makes a clean cut along the face of the stick, removing the penis, testicles, and scrotum in one motion, leaving a large open wound, where boiling sesame oil (Sesamum indicum) is poured to stop the bleeding, and the wound is then covered with a soft rag soaked in warm oil. This is the only dressing applied to the wound, which is changed daily while the patient is kept lying on their back in bed and given light food like rice gruel and milk. During the operation, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the patient is encouraged to shout ‘Dīn’ (the faith in Mahomet) three times.

“Of the two classes, the Kojahs are the artificially created eunuchs, in contradistinction to the Hijras (impotents) or natural eunuchs. Some years ago there were three Kojahs at the head of the State prison or Royal Mahal at Vellore, in charge of some of the wives, descendants, and other female connections of Tippoo Sultan. These men were highly respected, held charges of considerable trust, and were Muhammadans by birth. Tales were often repeated that the zenana women (slaves and adopted girls) were in the habit of stripping them naked, and poking fun at their helplessness. There were two Kojahs in the employ of the late Nabob of the Carnatic. They were both Africans. On the death of the Nabob, the Government allowed one of them a pension of fifteen rupees a month.

“Of the two groups, the Kojahs are the artificially created eunuchs, in contrast to the Hijras (impotents) or natural eunuchs. A few years ago, there were three Kojahs in charge of the State prison or Royal Mahal in Vellore, overseeing some of the wives, descendants, and other female relatives of Tippoo Sultan. These men were highly respected, held positions of significant trust, and were Muslims by birth. Stories were often shared that the women in the zenana (slaves and adopted girls) would strip them naked and make fun of their vulnerability. There were two Kojahs working for the late Nabob of the Carnatic. Both of them were Africans. After the Nabob passed away, the Government granted one of them a pension of fifteen rupees a month.”

“The second class, Hijras or natural eunuchs as they are termed, are not so, strictly speaking, but are said to be impotent. While some are naturally so from birth, others are impressed with a belief in childhood, and are dressed up in women’s clothes, taught to ape their speech and manners, whilst a few adopt it as a profession in after-life. They are chiefly Mussalmans. The hair of the head is put up as in women, well oiled, combed, and thrown back, tied into a knot, and shelved to the left side, sometimes plaited, ornamented, and allowed to hang down the back. They wear the cholee or short jacket, the saree or petticoat, and put on abundance of nose, ear, finger, and toe rings. They cultivate singing, play the dhol (a drum), and attitudinise. They go about the bazaars in groups of half a dozen or more, singing songs with the hope of receiving a trifle. [Such a group [291]I saw at Sandūr, who, on hearing that I wished to photograph them, made tracks for another place.—E.T.] They are not only persistent, but impudent beggars, singing filthy, obscene, and abusive songs, to compel the bazaarmen to give them something. Should they not succeed, they would create a fire and throw in a lot of chillies, the suffocating and irritative smoke producing violent coughing, etc., so that the bazaarmen are compelled to yield to their importunity, and give them a trifle to get rid of their annoyance. While such were the pursuits in the day, at nightfall they resorted to debauchery and low practices by hiring themselves out to a dissipated set of Moslems, who are in the habit of resorting to these people for the purpose, whilst they intoxicate themselves with a preparation termed majoon, being a confection of opium, and a drink termed boja, a species of country beer manufactured from rāgi (Eleusine Coracana), which also contains bhang (Indian hemp). In addition to this, they smoke bhang. The Hijras are met with in most of the towns of Southern India, more especially where a large proportion of Mussalmans is found.”

“The second group, Hijras, or natural eunuchs as they’re called, aren’t exactly that, but they’re considered impotent. Some are naturally so from birth, while others are conditioned to believe this from childhood. They are dressed in women’s clothing, taught to mimic female speech and behavior, and some choose this lifestyle as a profession later on. They are mostly Muslims. Their hair is styled like women’s hair: well oiled, combed back, tied into a knot, sometimes braided, decorated, and allowed to hang down their backs. They wear a cholee (short jacket) and a saree (petticoat), and they adorn themselves with lots of nose, ear, finger, and toe rings. They enjoy singing, play the dhol (a drum), and pose dramatically. They stroll through the markets in groups of six or more, singing songs in hopes of earning a few coins. [I saw such a group [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] in Sandūr, and when they heard I wanted to photograph them, they quickly moved away.—E.T.] They are not only persistent but also quite bold beggars, singing crude, obscene, and insulting songs to pressure market vendors into giving them something. If they fail to get what they want, they might create a fuss by throwing in a bunch of chillies to create choking, irritating smoke, causing severe coughing, which forces vendors to cough up some change just to stop the annoyance. While they spend the day in these activities, at night they indulge in hedonistic practices by offering themselves to a rowdy group of Muslims who seek them out for such purposes while consuming a concoction called majoon, made from opium, and a drink called boja, a type of local beer made from rāgi (Eleusine Coracana), which also has bhang (Indian hemp). Additionally, they smoke bhang. You can find Hijras in most towns in Southern India, especially where there’s a considerable Muslim population.”

In Hyderabad, castration used to be performed at about the age of sixteen. A pit, 3½ feet deep, was dug in the ground, and filled with ashes. After the operation, the patient had to sit on the ashes, with crossed legs, for three days. The operation was performed, under the influence of narcotics, by a Pīr—the head of the Khōja community.

In Hyderabad, castration used to be done around the age of sixteen. A pit, about 3½ feet deep, was dug in the ground and filled with ashes. After the procedure, the patient had to sit on the ashes with their legs crossed for three days. The operation was performed under the influence of narcotics by a Pīr—the leader of the Khōja community.

I am informed by Mr. G. T. Paddison that, at the annual festival of the Gadabas of Vizagapatam, thorns are set on a swing outside the shrine of the goddess. On these the priest or priestess sits without harm. If the priest is masculine, he has been made neuter. But, [292]if the village is not fortunate enough to possess a eunuch, a woman performs the ceremony.

I learned from Mr. G. T. Paddison that at the annual festival of the Gadabas in Vizagapatam, thorns are placed on a swing outside the goddess's shrine. The priest or priestess sits on these without getting hurt. If the priest is male, he is made neuter. But, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]if the village is unlucky enough not to have a eunuch, a woman carries out the ceremony.

The following notes were recorded by me on the occasion of an interview with some eunuchs living in the city of Madras:—

The following notes were written by me during an interview with some eunuchs living in the city of Chennai:—

Hindu, aged about 30. Generative organs feebly developed. Is a natural eunuch. Speaks and behaves like a female. Keeps a stall, at which he sells cakes. Goes out singing and dancing with four other eunuchs, and earns from ten annas to a rupee in a night. There are, in Madras, about thirty eunuchs, who go about dancing. Others keep shops, or are employed as domestic servants.

Hindu, around 30 years old. Reproductive organs are underdeveloped. He is a natural eunuch. Speaks and acts like a woman. Runs a stall where he sells cakes. Goes out singing and dancing with four other eunuchs, earning between ten annas to a rupee a night. In Madras, there are about thirty eunuchs who dance in public. Others run shops or work as domestic helpers.

One well acquainted with the Hindu eunuchs of Madras stated that, when a boy is born with ill-developed genitalia, his unnatural condition is a source of anxiety to his parents. As he grows up he feels shy, and is made fun of by his companions. Such boys run away from home, and join the eunuchs. They are taught to sing and dance, and carry on abominable practices. They are employed by dancing-girls, to decoy paramours to them. For this purpose, they dress up as dancing-girls, and go about the streets. At times of census, they return themselves as males engaged in singing and dancing.

One person who knows the Hindu eunuchs of Madras well said that when a boy is born with poorly developed genitalia, it causes his parents a lot of worry. As he grows up, he becomes shy and is teased by his peers. These boys often run away from home and join the eunuchs. They learn to sing and dance and get involved in unacceptable activities. They work with dancing girls to attract suitors to them. For this reason, they dress up like dancing girls and walk around the streets. During the census, they declare themselves as males who are involved in singing and dancing.

Khond.See Kondh.

Khond.See Kondh.

Khongar.See Kangara.

Khongar.See Kangara.

Kīchagāra.—A small class of Canarese basket-makers and beggars. The name is said to be derived from kichaku, meaning an imitative sound, in reference to the incessant noise which the Kīchagāras make when begging.

Kīchagāra.—A small group of Kannada basket-makers and beggars. The name is believed to come from kichaku, which means a mimicking sound, referring to the constant noise that Kīchagāras make when they ask for alms.

Kidāran (copper boiler).—A synonym for Malayālam artisans. [293]

Kidāran (copper boiler).—A term for Malayālam craftsmen. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kilakku Teru (east street).—A section of Kallan.

Kilakku Teru (east street).—A part of Kallan.

Killavar.—A sub-division of Tottiyan.

Killavar.—A subdivision of Tottiyan.

Killēkyāta.—The Killēkyātas are a Marāthi-speaking people, who amuse villagers with their marionette shows in the Telugu and Canarese countries. “They travel round the villages, and give a performance wherever they can secure sufficient patronage. Contributions take the form of money, or oil for the foot-lights.”135 “Their profession,” Mr. S. M. Natesa Sastri writes,136 “is enacting religious dramas before the village public (whence their name, meaning buffoon). The black kambli (blanket) is their screen, and any mandapa or village chāvadi, or open house is their stage. Night is the time for giving the performance. They carry with them pictures painted in colours on deer skins, which are well tanned, and made fine like parchment. The several parts of the picture representing the human or animal body are attached to each other by thin iron wires, and the parts are made to move by the assistance of thin bamboo splits, and thus the several actions and emotions are represented to the public, to the accompaniment of songs. Their pictures are in most cases very fairly painted, with variety and choice of colours. The stories chosen for representation are generally from the Rāmāyana and the Mahābhāratā, which they however call Rāvanyakathā and Pāndavakathā—the stories of Rāvana and the Pāndavas.” The dead are buried in a seated posture.

Killēkyāta.—The Killēkyātas are a Marathi-speaking group who entertain villagers with their puppet shows in the Telugu and Canarese regions. “They travel from village to village, performing wherever they can find enough support. Donations come in the form of money or oil for the footlights.” 135 “Their profession,” Mr. S. M. Natesa Sastri writes, 136 “involves performing religious dramas for the local audiences (which is reflected in their name, meaning buffoon). The black kambli (blanket) serves as their backdrop, and any mandapa or village chāvadi, or open house acts as their stage. They perform at night. They bring along paintings on deer skins, which are well-tanned and fine like parchment. The different sections of the paintings representing human or animal figures are connected by thin iron wires, allowing movement with the help of slim bamboo sticks, thus depicting various actions and emotions to the audience, accompanied by songs. Their paintings are often quite attractive, showcasing a variety of colors. The stories they tell usually come from the Rāmāyana and the Mahābhāratā, which they refer to as Rāvanyakathā and Pāndavakathā—the tales of Rāvana and the Pāndavas.” The deceased are buried in a seated position.

Some of the women are engaged as professional tattooers.

Some of the women work as professional tattoo artists.

Kimedi.—A local name for Koronos who live at Parlakimedi. [294]

Kimedi.—A local name for Koronos who live at Parlakimedi. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kindal (basket-maker).—A sub-division of Savara.

Kindal (basket-maker).—A subdivision of Savara.

Kinkila (the koel or cuckoo).—A gōtra of Kurni. The cuckoo, named Eudynamis honorata, is the bird, whose crescendo cry, ku-il, ku-il, is trying to the nerves during the hot season.

Kinkila (the koel or cuckoo).—A gōtra of Kurni. The cuckoo, named Eudynamis honorata, is the bird whose loud call, ku-il, ku-il, is nerve-wracking during the hot season.

Kinthali.—A sub-division of the Telugu Kālingis.

Kinthali.—A sub-division of the Telugu Kalingas.

Kīra (parrot).—A sept of Gadaba. Kīra also occurs as a sub-division of Sondi.

Kīra (parrot).—A group of Gadaba. Kīra is also found as a sub-division of Sondi.

Kīraikkāran.—Kīraikkāran is an occupational name, denoting those who cultivate kīrai (Amarantus). The Kīraikkārans are stated, in the Census Report, 1901, to be usually Agamudaiyans in Coimbatore. I gathered, however, that the name is given by Tamil-speaking people to the Kempati Okkiliyans of Coimbatore, a Canarese people who migrated thither from Kempati in Mysore. The majority of them cultivate kīrai and other edible vegetables, but some are petty traders or fishermen. Some of their marriage divisions are named after deities, e.g., Masāni and Vīramashti, and one division is called Jōgi.

Kīraikkāran.—Kīraikkāran is a name related to the occupation of those who grow kīrai (Amaranthus). The 1901 Census Report indicates that Kīraikkārans are usually Agamudaiyans in Coimbatore. However, I’ve learned that Tamil-speaking people refer to the Kempati Okkiliyans of Coimbatore—who are Canarese migrants from Kempati in Mysore—as Kīraikkārans. Most of them grow kīrai and other edible vegetables, but some are small traders or fishermen. Some of their marriage groups are named after deities, such as Masāni and Vīramashti, and one group is called Jōgi.

Kirāta (hunter).—A name assumed by Bēdars, Ēkāris, and other classes.

Kirāta (hunter).—A name taken on by Bēdars, Ēkāris, and other groups.

Kirgāniga.—Kirgāniga or Kirugāniga is the name of a sub-division of Gānigas, who express oils in wooden mills.

Kirgāniga.—Kirgāniga or Kirugāniga is the name of a subgroup of Gānigas, who extract oils using wooden mills.

Kiriyam.—A sub-division of Nāyar. Also the Malayālam word for house name or sept.

Kiriyam.—A sub-division of Nāyar. It's also the Malayalam word for house name or clan.

Kiriyattil.—A sub-division of Nāyar.

Kiriyattil.—A subdivision of Nāyar.

Kizhakathi.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, as a sub-division of Paraiyan. The word means easterner, and a Paraiyan of North or South Arcot would call a Paraiyan of Madras by this name.

Kizhakathi.—Listed in the Madras Census Report, 1891, as a sub-division of Paraiyan. The term means easterner, and a Paraiyan from North or South Arcot would refer to a Paraiyan from Madras using this name.

Koalaka (arrow).—An exogamous sept of Jātapu. [295]

Koalaka (arrow).—An exogamous clan of Jātapu. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kobbiriya.—A sub-division of Dōmb.

Kobbiriya.—A subdivision of Dōmb.

Kochattabannaya.—Kochattabannaya or Kojjarannāya (jāk tree, Artocarpus integrifolia, sept) is an exogamous sept of Bant.

Kochattabannaya.—Kochattabannaya or Kojjarannāya (jackfruit tree, Artocarpus integrifolia, sept) is a group of the Bant community that practices exogamy.

Kochimo (tortoise).—A sept of Oriya Gaudo, Bosantiya, Bottada, Konda Dora, Mattiya, and Omanaito.

Kochimo (tortoise).—A group from the Oriya Gaudo, including Bosantiya, Bottada, Konda Dora, Mattiya, and Omanaito.

Kochuvālan.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a name for Ullādans.

Kochuvālan.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a term for Ullādans.

Kōdaketti (umbrella tying).—A sub-division of Pānan.

Kōdaketti (umbrella tying).—A subcategory of Pānan.

Kodavili (sickle).—An exogamous sept of Karna Sālē.

Kodavili (sickle).—An exogamous group of Karna Sālē.

Kodekal Hata-kāraru (cloth-weavers).—A sub-division of Dēvānga.

Kodekal Hata-kāraru (cloth weavers).—A sub-division of Dēvānga.

Kōdi (cock).—An exogamous sept of Kāpu. Thōrika occurs as a sept of Jātapus, who are said to revere a species of fowl called thōrika kōdi, and Kōdi Kandla (fowl’s eyes) as a sept of Bōya.

Kōdi (rooster).—An exogamous clan of Kāpu. Thōrika is a clan of Jātapus, who are said to honor a type of bird called thōrika kōdi, and Kōdi Kandla (bird's eyes) is a clan of Bōya.

Kodikkāl.—Kodikkāl, Kodikkar, or Kodikkālkāran, meaning betel vine man, is the occupational name of a sub-division of Vella̱las, and of Labbai Muhammadans who cultivate the betel vine. In the Census Report, 1901, it is noted that those who gave this as the name of their caste returned their parent tongue as Tamil, and their title as Na̱yakkan, and were therefore clubbed with Pallis. Kodikkāl is further a sub-division of the Shānāns, who derive the name from kōdi, a flag, and give flag-bearer as its significance. Other castes, however, make it to mean a betel garden, in reference to Shānāns who were betel vine growers. Kodikkāl Pillaimar is a synonym of the Sēnaikkudaiyāns, indicating Pillaimars who cultivate the betel vine.

Kodikkāl.—Kodikkāl, Kodikkar, or Kodikkālkāran, meaning betel vine man, is the occupational name for a subgroup of Vella̱las and Labbai Muhammadans who grow betel vines. In the Census Report of 1901, it was noted that those who identified with this caste reported their native language as Tamil and their title as Na̱yakkan, and were therefore grouped with Pallis. Kodikkāl is also a subgroup of the Shānāns, who take their name from kōdi, meaning flag, which signifies flag-bearer. However, other castes interpret it as meaning a betel garden, referring to the Shānāns who were betel vine growers. Kodikkāl Pillaimar is a synonym for the Sēnaikkudaiyāns, referring to Pillaimars who cultivate the betel vine.

Kodiyāl.—A sub-division of Kudubi. [296]

Kodiyāl.—A subdivision of Kudubi. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kōdla.—Kōdla (fowl) has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Tsākala, and Kōdla bochchu (fowl’s feathers) as an exogamous sept of Kāpu.

Kōdla.—Kōdla (chicken) has been noted as an exogamous group of Tsākala, and Kōdla bochchu (chicken’s feathers) as an exogamous group of Kāpu.

Kōdu.—A form of Kondh. Also a sub-division of Konda Rāzu.

Kōdu.—A type of Kondh. It’s also a sub-division of Konda Rāzu.

Kohōro.—A form of Kahar.

Kohōro.—A type of Kahar.

Koi.See Kōya.

Koi.See Kōya.

Koibarto.—A sub-division of Kēvuto.

Koibarto.—A subdivision of Kēvuto.

Koil Pandala (keeper of the royal treasury).—One of the divisions of Kshatriyas in Travancore.

Koil Pandala (keeper of the royal treasury).—One of the groups of Kshatriyas in Travancore.

Koil Tampurān.—The following note is extracted from the Travancore Census Report, 1901. The Koil Tampurāns form a small community, made up of the descendants of the immigrant Kshatriya families from certain parts of Malabar lying to the north of Travancore and Cochin. They are also known as Koil Pantalas. In early records, the term Koviladhikārikal appears to have been used. Immemorial tradition connects the Koil Tampurāns with Chēramān Perumāl, and goes to say that their original settlement was Beypore. About 300 M.E. a few male members were invited to settle in Travancore, and form marital alliances with the ladies of the Travancore Royal House, known then as the Vēnāt Svarūpam. Houses were built for them at Kilimānūr, six miles from Attingal, where all the female members of the Royal Family resided. In M.E. 963, eight persons—three males and five females—from the family of Āliakkōtu, oppressed by the invasion of Tīpū Sultan, sought shelter in Travancore. Maharāja Rāma Varma received them kindly, and gave them the palace of the Tekkumkūr Rāja, who had been subjugated by Rāma Iyen Dalawah. This site in Changanachery is still recognised as Nīrāzhikkottāram. In 975 M.E. one of the five ladies removed to Kirtipuram near Kantiyūr [297](Mavelikara tāluk), and thence to a village called Grāmam in the same tāluk. Another shifted to Pallam in the Kottayam tāluk, a third to Pa̱liyakkara in Tiruvalla, and a fourth, having no issue, continued to live at Changanachery with the fifth lady who was the youngest in the family. Ra̱ja Raāja Varma Koil Tampura̱n, who married Ra̱ni Lakshmi Bai, sovereign of Travancore from 985 to 990 M.E. was the eldest son of the lady that stayed at Changanachery. Their present house at that place, known as Lakshmipuram Kotta̱ram, was named after the Koil Tampurān’s royal consort. Rāja Rāja Varma’s sister gave birth to three daughters and two sons. The eldest daughter and sons removed to Kartikapalli in 1040, and thence, in 1046, to Anantapuram in Haripad. In 1041, the second daughter and issue removed to Chemprōl in Tiruvalla, while the third continued to live at Changanachery. Thus there came into existence seven families of Koil Tampurāns, namely those of Kilimānūr, Changanachery, Anantapuram, Pallam, Chemprōl, Grāmam, and Pāliyakkare. Some time after 1040 M.E. (A.D. 1856), three more families, viz., those of Cherukōl, Kārāmma, and Vatakkēmatham, immigrated from North Malabar.

Koil Tampurān.—The following note is extracted from the Travancore Census Report, 1901. The Koil Tampurāns are a small community made up of descendants from Kshatriya families who immigrated from northern Malabar into Travancore and Cochin. They are also called Koil Pantalas. Early records mention them as Koviladhikārikal. Long-standing tradition links the Koil Tampurāns to Chēramān Perumāl, claiming their original settlement was in Beypore. Around 300 M.E., a few male members were invited to settle in Travancore and form marital alliances with the women of the Travancore Royal House, known then as the Vēnāt Svarūpam. Houses were built for them at Kilimānūr, six miles from Attingal, where all the female members of the Royal Family lived. In M.E. 963, eight people—three men and five women—from the Āliakkōtu family, who were affected by Tīpū Sultan’s invasion, sought refuge in Travancore. Maharāja Rāma Varma welcomed them warmly and assigned them the palace of the Tekkumkūr Rāja, who had been defeated by Rāma Iyen Dalawah. This location in Changanachery is still recognized as Nīrāzhikkottāram. In 975 M.E., one of the five women moved to Kirtipuram near Kantiyūr [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] (Mavelikara tāluk), and then to a village called Grāmam in the same tāluk. Another woman relocated to Pallam in the Kottayam tāluk, a third to Pa̱liyakkara in Tiruvalla, and a fourth, who had no children, continued to reside in Changanachery with the fifth woman, the youngest in the family. Ra̱ja Raāja Varma Koil Tampura̱n, who married Ra̱ni Lakshmi Bai, the ruler of Travancore from 985 to 990 M.E., was the eldest son of the woman who stayed in Changanachery. Their current home at that location, known as Lakshmipuram Kotta̱ram, was named after the Koil Tampurān’s royal consort. Rāja Rāja Varma’s sister gave birth to three daughters and two sons. The eldest daughter and sons moved to Kartikapalli in 1040, and then in 1046 to Anantapuram in Haripad. In 1041, the second daughter and her children moved to Chemprōl in Tiruvalla, while the third stayed in Changanachery. This led to the establishment of seven families of Koil Tampurāns: those of Kilimānūr, Changanachery, Anantapuram, Pallam, Chemprōl, Grāmam, and Pāliyakkare. Some time after 1040 M.E. (A.D. 1856), three more families—those of Cherukōl, Kārāmma, and Vatakkēmatham—immigrated from North Malabar.

The Koil Tampurāns are all regarded as blood relations, and observe birth and death pollutions like Dāyādis among Brāhmans. They follow the matriarchal system of inheritance. Nambūtiri Brāhmans marry their ladies. Their religious ceremonies are the same as those of Nambūtiris, whom they resemble in the matter of food and drink. Their caste government is in the hands of the Nambūtiri Vaidikans.

The Koil Tampurāns are all considered blood relatives and observe birth and death impurities like the Dāyādis among Brāhmans. They follow a matriarchal inheritance system. Nambūtiri Brāhmans marry their women. Their religious ceremonies are the same as those of the Nambūtiris, and they are similar in terms of food and drink. Their caste leadership is held by the Nambūtiri Vaidikans.

Their ceremonies are the usual Brāhmanical Samskāras—Gātakarma, Nāmakarana, Annaprāsana, etc. Regarding the Nāmakarana, or naming, the only [298]noteworthy fact is that the first-born male always goes by the name of Rāja Rāja Varma. The Upanāyana, or investiture with the sacred thread, takes place in the sixteenth year of age. On the morning of the Upanāyana, Chaula or the tonsure ceremony is performed. It is formally done by the Nambūtiri priest in the capacity of Guru, just as the father does to his son among Brāhmans, and afterwards left to be completed by the Mārān. The priest invests the boy with the thread, and, with the sacrificial fire as lord and witness, initiates him in the Gāyatri prayer. The Koil Tampurāns are to repeat this prayer morning, noon and evening, like the Brāhmans, but are to do so only ten times on each occasion. On the fourth day, the boy listens to a few Vēdic hymns recited by the priest. There is not the prolonged course of severe discipline of the Brāhmanical Brahmachāri, which the Nambūtiris so religiously observe. The Samāvartana, or pupilage stage, is performed on the fifteenth day. The ceremony of proceeding to Benares is then gone through. Just as in the case of the Brāhmans, a would-be father-in-law intercedes, and requests the Snātaka (past Brahmachāri) to bless his daughter, and settle in life as a Grihastha. The Nambūtiri priest then steps in to remind the boy of his dharma (duty) as a Kshatriya, and gives him a sword symbolic of his pre-ordained function in society.

Their ceremonies are the typical Brāhmanical Samskāras—Gātakarma, Nāmakarana, Annaprāsana, and so on. Regarding the Nāmakarana, or naming, the only [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]noteworthy detail is that the first-born son is always named Rāja Rāja Varma. The Upanāyana, or the ceremony of receiving the sacred thread, happens when a boy turns sixteen. On the morning of the Upanāyana, the Chaula or tonsure ceremony is performed. This is formally done by the Nambūtiri priest acting as the Guru, similar to how a father does it for his son among Brāhmans, and it is then left to be completed by the Mārān. The priest places the thread on the boy and, with the sacrificial fire as the lord and witness, initiates him into the Gāyatri prayer. The Koil Tampurāns are supposed to recite this prayer morning, noon, and evening, like the Brāhmans, but only ten times each time. On the fourth day, the boy listens to a few Vēdic hymns recited by the priest. There isn’t the extended period of strict discipline that the Brāhmanical Brahmachāri observes so devotedly. The Samāvartana, or pupilage stage, is conducted on the fifteenth day. Following this, the ceremony for going to Benares is performed. Just like with the Brāhmans, a prospective father-in-law intervenes and asks the Snātaka (former Brahmachāri) to bless his daughter and establish themselves as a Grihastha. The Nambūtiri priest then reminds the boy of his dharma (duty) as a Kshatriya and gives him a sword that symbolizes his predetermined role in society.

The marriage of a Koil Tampurān does not present many peculiar features. One item in the programme, called Dīkshavirippu, may be referred to. During all the four days of the marriage, the bride is confined to a special room, where a white cloth with a carpet over it is spread on the floor, and a lamp burns day and night. The ceremonial bridegroom is either an Aryappattar or a Nambūtiri, now generally a Nambūtiri. Of course, [299]the marriage is a mere ceremonial, and the bridegroom at the ceremony is not necessarily the spouse of actual life. His death deprives her of the right to wear the tāli, and makes her an Amangali (an inauspicious person) for all socio-religious purposes. At srāddhas (memorial service for the dead), the Tampurātti with her married husband alive faces the east, and one that has lost him has to look in the direction of Yamalōka (south).

The marriage of a Koil Tampurān doesn't have many unusual aspects. One things to note is called Dīkshavirippu. During the four days of the wedding, the bride stays in a special room where a white cloth is laid down on the floor, covered with a carpet, and a lamp burns continuously. The ceremonial groom is usually either an Aryappattar or a Nambūtiri, but nowadays it’s mostly a Nambūtiri. Of course, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the marriage is purely ceremonial, and the groom at the ceremony isn’t necessarily the bride's actual husband. If he dies, she loses the right to wear the tāli and becomes an Amangali (an inauspicious person) for all social and religious purposes. During srāddhas (memorial services for the deceased), the Tampurātti with her living husband faces east, while one who has lost him must look toward Yamalōka (south).

Mr. Ravi Varma, the celebrated artist, who died recently, was a Koil Tampurān of Kilimānūr, an extensive village assigned to his ancestors rent-free for the military services they had rendered to the State in times of trouble.137

Mr. Ravi Varma, the famous artist who recently passed away, was a Koil Tampurān from Kilimānūr, a large village that was granted to his family rent-free for the military service they provided to the State during difficult times.137

Kōkala (woman’s cloth).—An exogamous sept of Golla.

Kōkala (woman’s cloth).—A group within the Golla community that practices exogamy.

Kokkara.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kokkara.—Listed in the Travancore Census Report as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kokkundia.See Kukkundi.

Kokkundia.See Kukkundi.

Kōla (ear of corn).—An exogamous sept of Mēdara.

Kōla (ear of corn).—A group that marries outside of their clan in Mēdara.

Kōlāri.See Kōlayān.

Kōlāri.See Kōlayān.

Kolālo (arrack-seller).—A name of Sōndis.

Kolālo (arrack seller).—A name for Sōndis.

Kolata Gudiya.—A name for Gudiyas engaged in agriculture.

Kolata Gudiya.—A term for Gudiyas involved in farming.

Kōlayan.—It is recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, that “the caste is found chiefly in the Kasaragōd tāluk of South Canara, and in the northern part of Malabar. In South Malabar, it is called Ūrāli. Its traditional occupation is herding cows, and it claims the privilege of supplying milk and ghee to certain Hindu temples, but at present most of its members are [300]masons. It has two endogamous sections, Āyan or Kōl-Āyan, and Māriyan or Erumān” (Erumā, a cow-buffalo). It is further noted, in the same report under the heading Erumān, that “the people of the caste were originally buffalo drivers and keepers, and still follow their traditional occupation in the Kasaragōd tāluk of South Canara. In North Malabar, they are masons and bricklayers.” The masonry work of temples is done by Kōlayans.

Kōlayan.—According to the Madras Census Report, 1901, “this caste is mainly found in the Kasaragōd tāluk of South Canara and in the northern part of Malabar. In South Malabar, they're referred to as Ūrāli. Their traditional occupation is herding cows, and they have the privilege of supplying milk and ghee to certain Hindu temples, but currently, most of their members are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]masons. There are two endogamous groups, Āyan or Kōl-Āyan, and Māriyan or Erumān” (Erumā, a cow-buffalo). The same report under the heading Erumān also notes that “the people of this caste were originally buffalo drivers and keepers, and they still practice their traditional occupation in the Kasaragōd tāluk of South Canara. In North Malabar, they are masons and bricklayers.” The masonry work on temples is done by Kōlayans.

The name Kōlayan has been said to be derived from Golla and Ayan, meaning cowherd. Golla is, however, a Telugu word not used in the Malayālam country.

The name Kōlayan is said to come from Golla and Ayan, which means cowherd. However, Golla is a Telugu word that isn't used in the Malayālam region.

Members of the two sections, Kōlayan and Erumān (or Eruvān), are said not to intermarry. Women of both sections may affect sambandham (alliance) with Nāyars. Children born of such unions are regarded as somewhat inferior to those born of Kōlayan parents, and are not allowed to worship at the temples. The priests of the Kōlayans are called Mūthavan or Poduvan, and are usually elected by Rājas.

Members of the two groups, Kōlayan and Erumān (or Eruvān), supposedly do not intermarry. Women from both groups can form sambandham (alliances) with Nāyars. Children from these unions are seen as somewhat inferior to those born to Kōlayan parents and are not permitted to worship in the temples. The priests of the Kōlayans are called Mūthavan or Poduvan and are typically chosen by Rājas.

Kōlayan girls go through the mangalam or tāli-kettu ceremony before they reach puberty. On an auspicious day fixed by the Kanisan (astrologer), the girl sits on a plank in the middle room of the house, and four lamps are placed near her. Her father throws rice and flowers over her head, and ties the tāli (marriage emblem) on her neck. The girl, four women, and four girls, are fed in the middle room. On the following day, a priest (Vāthiyan) places rice, paddy (unhusked rice), tender cocoanut, betel leaves and areca nuts, before the girl. Men and women of the priest’s family wave rice, cocoanuts, etc., in front of her both in the morning and afternoon. Finally, towards evening, a Vāthiyan woman waves the rice and other articles thrice, calling out [301]“Kolachi, Kolachi, Kolachi.” The girl may then leave the middle room.

Kōlayan girls participate in the mangalam or tāli-kettu ceremony before they hit puberty. On a lucky day decided by the Kanisan (astrologer), the girl sits on a plank in the main room of the house, with four lamps placed near her. Her father showers rice and flowers over her head and ties the tāli (marriage emblem) around her neck. The girl, along with four women and four other girls, is fed in the main room. The next day, a priest (Vāthiyan) offers rice, paddy (unhusked rice), tender coconut, betel leaves, and areca nuts in front of the girl. Family members of the priest wave rice, coconuts, and other items in front of her both in the morning and afternoon. Finally, in the evening, a woman from the Vāthiyan's family waves the rice and other items three times, calling out [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]“Kolachi, Kolachi, Kolachi.” After that, the girl can leave the main room.

At the first menstrual period, a girl is under pollution for three days. On the first day, a cloth (māttu) is given to her by a washerwoman, and on the fourth day she receives one from a Malayan woman.

At the first menstrual period, a girl is considered to be in a state of impurity for three days. On the first day, a cloth (māttu) is provided to her by a washerwoman, and on the fourth day she receives another from a Malayan woman.

The dead are usually cremated. Daily, until the twelfth day of the death ceremonies, food is offered to the spirit of the deceased, on a dais set up outside the house, by the relatives. On the fifth day, all the agnates are purified by the Vāthiyan sprinkling water over them. On the twelfth day, the Vāthiyan draws the image of a man with vibūthi (sacred ashes) on the spot where the deceased breathed his last. Near the figure, cooked rice, vegetables, etc., are placed. The chief mourner offers these to the dead person, and makes a bundle of them in his cloth. Going outside the house, he kicks the dais already referred to with his foot, while the Vāthiyan holds one hand, and his relations the other hand or arm. He then bathes in a tank (pond) or river, while his hands are held in like manner.

The dead are typically cremated. Every day until the twelfth day of the mourning period, relatives offer food to the spirit of the deceased on a platform set up outside the house. On the fifth day, all male relatives are purified by the Vāthiyan sprinkling water on them. On the twelfth day, the Vāthiyan draws a figure of a man with sacred ashes on the spot where the deceased passed away. Nearby, cooked rice, vegetables, and other items are placed. The chief mourner presents these offerings to the deceased and wraps them in his cloth. He then goes outside the house and kicks the platform mentioned earlier with his foot, while the Vāthiyan holds one hand and his relatives hold the other hand or arm. After that, he bathes in a pond or river, with his hands still held in the same manner.

Kōli.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, the Kōlis are described as being “a Bombay caste of fishermen and boatmen in South Canara; also a low class of Bengal weavers found in Ganjam.” The Kōlis who were investigated in Ganjam are an Oriya-speaking class, who are apparently Telugu people who have settled in the Oriya country as weavers of coarse cloths, traders, and agriculturists. They have Oriya titles such as Bēhara. They worship village deities (Tākurānis), are Saivites, and none of them have been converted to the Paramartho form of Vishnavism. The caste council, puberty and death ceremonies, are based on the common Oriya type, but the marriage rites are [302]an interesting blend of the Oriya and Telugu types of ceremonial. Thus the usual Telugu marriage post, but made of Streblus asper wood, is set up, and nine kinds of grain are placed near it. A bottu (marriage badge) is tied on the neck of the bride by the bridegroom, and the hands of the contracting couple are united (hasthagōnthi) as among the Oriyas.

Kōli.—In the Madras Census Report, 1901, the Kōlis are described as “a Bombay caste of fishermen and boatmen in South Canara; also a low class of Bengal weavers found in Ganjam.” The Kōlis investigated in Ganjam are an Oriya-speaking group, apparently Telugu people who have settled in the Oriya region as weavers of coarse fabrics, traders, and farmers. They hold Oriya titles such as Bēhara. They worship village deities (Tākurānis), follow Shaivism, and none have been converted to the Paramartho form of Vaishnavism. The caste council, puberty, and death ceremonies follow the typical Oriya customs, but the marriage rites are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]an interesting mix of Oriya and Telugu ceremonial traditions. For example, a traditional Telugu marriage post, made of Streblus asper wood, is erected, and nine kinds of grains are placed nearby. A bottu (marriage badge) is tied around the bride's neck by the groom, and the hands of the couple are joined (hasthagōnthi) as is customary among the Oriyas.

Kōliyan.—The Kōliyans are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a weaver caste, the members of which were originally Paraiyans, but now do not eat or intermarry with that caste.” They are largely found in the Tanjore and Madura districts, and are divided into various nādus (territories) and kuppams (settlements). Those at Pattukottai, for example, belong to Ambu Nādū, and are sub-divided into five kuppams. Many of the Kōliyans are engaged in weaving coarse white cloths, while some work as field labourers. As some Paraiyans have Sāmbān (Siva) as their title, so the title of the Kōliyans is Īsan (god). At times of marriage, the names of persons must not be mentioned without this title, e.g., one who is, in everyday life, called Ponnan is addressed as Īsa Ponnan.

Kōliyan.—The Kōliyans are described in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a weaving community, originally from the Paraiyan caste, but now they do not eat or intermarry with that group.” They mainly reside in the Tanjore and Madura districts and are divided into various nādus (regions) and kuppams (localities). For example, those in Pattukottai belong to Ambu Nādū and are further divided into five kuppams. Many Kōliyans work in weaving coarse white fabrics, while some are employed as agricultural laborers. Just as some Paraiyans use Sāmbān (Siva) as their surname, Kōliyans use Īsan (god) as theirs. During weddings, personal names cannot be mentioned without this title, e.g., someone known in daily life as Ponnan would be addressed as Īsa Ponnan.

An interesting point in connection with the first puberty ceremonial of a girl is that, on the sixteenth day, when she bathes, a withe of a creeper (Dalbergia, sp.) made into a loop, is passed round her body by a barber from head to foot thrice, without touching her. If this is not done, it is believed that the girl is not free from pollution.

An interesting point related to a girl's first puberty ceremony is that, on the sixteenth day, when she takes a bath, a loop made from a creeper (Dalbergia, sp.) is passed around her body from head to foot three times by a barber, without actually touching her. If this isn't done, it's believed that the girl hasn't been cleansed of pollution.

There are two forms of marriage ceremony, called chinna (little) and periya (big) kalyānam. The former is resorted to by those who cannot afford the more elaborate ceremonial. The sister of the bridegroom is sent to the house of the bride on an auspicious day. [303]She there ties the tāli (marriage badge) on the bride’s neck, and conducts her to the house of the bridegroom. Women who are thus married may not take part in the marriage of their children. More especially, they may not decorate them with garlands and flowers, unless they have themselves performed the sadangu rite. In this, which is usually carried out a day or two before the child’s marriage, the husband and wife sit on planks, and, after being decorated, and the performance of wave offerings (ārathi), the former ties the tāli on his wife’s neck.

There are two types of wedding ceremonies, called chinna (little) and periya (big) kalyānam. The first is for those who can’t afford the more elaborate ceremony. The groom's sister goes to the bride's house on an auspicious day. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]There, she ties the tāli (marriage badge) around the bride's neck and brings her to the groom’s house. Women who are married this way cannot participate in their children's weddings. Specifically, they cannot adorn them with garlands and flowers unless they have themselves performed the sadangu rite. In this rite, which usually takes place a day or two before the child’s wedding, the husband and wife sit on wooden planks, get decorated, perform wave offerings (ārathi), and the husband ties the tāli around his wife's neck.

In the periya kalyānam, the bridegroom goes on a horse to the bride’s house, where he is met by her brother, who is also on horseback. They exchange garlands, and proceed to the marriage pandal (booth). The bridegroom receives from the bride’s father a cocoanut, and the bride seats herself on a bench. The bridegroom gives her the cocoanut, and ties the tāli on her neck. They then exchange garlands, and their fingers are linked together. All these items must be performed as quickly as possible, in accordance with a saying that the tāli should be tied without dismounting from the horse, which one is riding. Before the tāli is tied, the contracting couple go through the sadangu ceremony, in which a loop of cotton thread is passed over them from head to foot, without touching them. Then the kankanams, or wrist threads, are tied on their wrists. The milk-post and marriage pots are set up within the pandal, and the bride and bridegroom prostrate themselves before them, and salute their maternal uncles, parents and relations, and lastly the musicians. The day’s proceedings terminate with a feast, at the conclusion of which hands are washed within the house. For six days the bride and bridegroom pay visits to each [304]other alternately, and, on the seventh day, the wrist-threads, marriage pots, and milk-post are removed. During marriage and other auspicious ceremonies, coloured water, into which leaves of Bauhinia variegata are thrown, are waved (ārathi).

In the periya kalyānam, the groom rides a horse to the bride’s house, where he is greeted by her brother, who is also on horseback. They exchange garlands and head to the wedding booth. The groom receives a coconut from the bride’s father, and the bride sits on a bench. The groom gives her the coconut and ties the tāli around her neck. They then exchange garlands, linking their fingers together. All these steps must be completed as quickly as possible, based on a saying that the tāli should be tied without getting off the horse. Before the tāli is tied, the couple participates in the sadangu ceremony, where a loop of cotton thread is passed over them from head to toe without touching them. Then, the kankanams, or wrist threads, are tied on their wrists. The milk post and wedding pots are set up in the booth, and the bride and groom bow down before them, greeting their maternal uncles, parents, relatives, and finally, the musicians. The day's events conclude with a feast, after which hands are washed inside the house. For six days, the bride and groom visit each other alternately, and on the seventh day, the wrist threads, wedding pots, and milk post are removed. During the wedding and other auspicious ceremonies, colored water with leaves of Bauhinia variegata is waved (ārathi).

On ceremonial occasions, and at times of worship, the Kōliyans put on Saivite sect marks. Among other deities, they worship Aiyanar, Pattavanswāmi, and Pothiamman.

On special occasions and during times of worship, the Kōliyans wear Saivite sect symbols. They worship various deities, including Aiyanar, Pattavanswāmi, and Pothiamman.

The dead are burnt, and the body is placed in a seated posture with fingers and toes tied together. On the way to the burning-ground, a widow goes round the corpse, and breaks a pot containing water. On the day after the funeral, the calcined bones are collected, and arranged so as to represent a human figure, to which food is offered. The final death ceremonies (karmāndhiram) are performed on the sixteenth day. A mass of cooked rice, vegetables, and meat, is placed within an enclosure, round which the relations go in tears.

The deceased are cremated, and the body is positioned in a seated pose with fingers and toes tied together. On the way to the cremation site, a widow circles the body and breaks a pot filled with water. The day after the funeral, the ashes are gathered and arranged to form a human figure, to which food is offered. The final death rituals (karmāndhiram) take place on the sixteenth day. A large amount of cooked rice, vegetables, and meat is placed inside a designated area, around which the family members mourn.

Kollakar.—There are about seven hundred members of this community at Cochin, to which place the Kollakars, or people of Kollam, are said to have come from Quilon (Kollam) in Travancore one or two centuries ago. The majority of the men work as coolies on board steamers, and a few as fishermen. The women of the poorer classes twist rope and sell fish, while the others make lace. A few hold appointments under the Government, and, in 1907, two had passed the Matriculation examination of the Madras University. They are Roman Catholics, and are said to have been converted to Christianity by the Portuguese. They marry among themselves. The Kollakars are also found at Calicut, Cannanore, Mahē, and Tellicherry, and are mainly occupied in fishing, rope-making, and making fishing-nets. [305]A few at Tellicherry are employed as carpenters, tailors, and petty shopkeepers.

Kollakar.—There are about seven hundred members of this community in Cochin, who are believed to have come from Quilon (Kollam) in Travancore one or two centuries ago. Most of the men work as laborers on steamers, while a few are fishermen. The women from poorer families twist rope and sell fish, whereas others make lace. A few have jobs with the Government, and in 1907, two passed the Matriculation exam from Madras University. They are Roman Catholics and are said to have been converted to Christianity by the Portuguese. They marry within their community. The Kollakars can also be found in Calicut, Cannanore, Mahē, and Tellicherry, mainly working in fishing, rope-making, and crafting fishing nets. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]A few in Tellicherry work as carpenters, tailors, and small shopkeepers.

Kolla Kurup.—The Kolla Kurups of Malabar are described, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, as a sub-caste of, or a caste allied to, the Kammālans. “They combine two professions, which at first sight seem strangely incongruous, shampooing or massage, and the construction of the characteristic leather shields of Malabar. But the two arts are intimately connected with the system of combined physical training, as we should now call it, and exercise in arms, which formed the curriculum of the kalari (gymnasium), and the title Kurup is proper to castes connected with that institution.” Among Kolla Kurups, the following symbolical ceremony is necessary to constitute a valid divorce. “The husband and the wife’s brother stand east and west respectively of a lighted lamp placed in the yard of the woman’s original home. The husband pulls a thread from his cloth, and approaches the lamp, and breaks the thread saying ‘Here is your sister’s acchāram.’”

Kolla Kurup.—The Kolla Kurups of Malabar are described in the Gazetteer of Malabar as a sub-caste or a caste linked to the Kammālans. “They practice two jobs that may seem oddly mismatched at first—shampooing or massage, and making the distinctive leather shields of Malabar. However, these two skills are closely related to what we would now refer to as a system of combined physical training and exercises in weaponry, which were part of the curriculum at the kalari (gymnasium), and the title Kurup is associated with castes linked to that institution.” Among Kolla Kurups, the following symbolic ceremony is necessary to formalize a valid divorce. “The husband and the wife’s brother stand east and west respectively of a lit lamp placed in the yard of the woman’s original home. The husband pulls a thread from his cloth, approaches the lamp, and breaks the thread saying ‘Here is your sister’s acchāram.’”

Kollan.—The blacksmiths are iron-workers among the Malayālam Kammālans. “These Malabar Kollans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,138 “are said to practice fraternal polyandry to a greater extent even than the rest of the Malabar artizan castes. Kollans are divided into (1) Tī (fire) Kollan, (2) Perum (big) Kollan, (3) Tīperum Kollan, (4) Irumbu (iron) Kollan. There are also Kadacchil Kollan (knife-grinders) and Tōl Kollan (leather-workers). These are of inferior status, on account of the nature of their professions.”

Kollan.—The blacksmiths are ironworkers among the Malayālam Kammālans. “These Malabar Kollans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, “are said to practice fraternal polyandry more than other artisan castes in Malabar. Kollans are divided into (1) Tī (fire) Kollan, (2) Perum (big) Kollan, (3) Tīperum Kollan, (4) Irumbu (iron) Kollan. There are also Kadacchil Kollan (knife-grinders) and Tōl Kollan (leather-workers). These have a lower status because of the nature of their professions.”

Kollar.—A section of Tottiyan, the full name of which is Yerrakollavāru or Yerrakolla Tottiyar. Kollar [306]is a corrupt Tamil form of Golla, to which caste the Tottiyans trace their descent.

Kollar.—A section of Tottiyan, whose full name is Yerrakollavāru or Yerrakolla Tottiyar. Kollar [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is a distorted Tamil version of Golla, the caste from which the Tottiyans claim their ancestry.

Kolli (fire-brand).—A sub-division of Kādu Kurumba.

Kolli (firebrand) — A sub-division of Kādu Kurumba.

Kolli (a hill-range, the Kollimalais).—A sub-division of Malayālis.

Kolli (a mountain range, the Kollimalais).—A subdivision of Malayālis.

Komāli (buffoon).—An exogamous sept of Oddē.

Komāli (fool).—An exogamous clan of Oddē.

Kōmanāndi.—A sub-division of Āndis, who go about naked, except for a small loin cloth (kōmanam).

Kōmanāndi.—A subgroup of Āndis, who go around naked, except for a small loincloth (kōmanam).

Komāro.—Oriya blacksmiths. See Badhōyi.

Komāro.—Oriya blacksmiths. See Badhōyi.

Kōmati.—The Kōmatis form the great trading caste of the Madras Presidency, and are found in almost all the districts thereof. They are further found in the Mysore State, Bombay Presidency, Berar, Central Provinces, and as far north-west as Baroda. Their wide distribution accounts for the great variety which prevails in the minor details of the religious and social ceremonials.

Kōmati.—The Kōmatis make up the main trading community in the Madras Presidency and can be found in nearly all its districts. They are also present in the Mysore State, Bombay Presidency, Berar, Central Provinces, and as far northwest as Baroda. Their widespread presence explains the diverse variations that exist in the specific aspects of their religious and social ceremonies.

The name Kōmati has been derived in many different ways. By some it is said to be from ko-mati, meaning fox-minded. This has reference to the cunning of the Kōmatis in business, and is undoubtedly the outcome of their unpopularity with their customers. The phrase Kōmatiguttu (the secrecy of a Kōmati) is said to be a common one. Others say that it is from gō-mati, meaning the possessor of cows, one of the ordained duties of Vaisyas being the protecting of cows. Others, again, say that it is from gō-mati, meaning cow-minded. A modern redaction of the Kanyakā Purāna, the sacred book of the Kōmatis, gives this derivation. According to this work, the Kōmatis did severe penance, and were consequently invited to live in heaven. Their continued absence from this world gave rise to serious trouble, and Vishnu accordingly asked them to return thither for [307]the good of mankind. They, however, refused to do so. Vishnu then called for Siva, and asked him to induce them to return. Siva brought a cow, and directed all the Kōmatis to get into its right ear. From there they saw gloriously decorated towns, with magnificent temples, pleasure gardens, etc., and begged permission to live in them. Siva assented, and they speedily began to march off to their new abodes. But, almost immediately, a huge conflagration came in view, and began to overwhelm them. Terror-stricken, they cried out to Siva to help them in their trouble. He consented on condition that they would return to the mortal world. This they accordingly did. Siva gave them the name of Gōmati, because they exhibited as much fear at the conflagration as a cow would when anything untoward happened. Yet another derivation of Kōmati is gō-mati, meaning sprung from the cow in accordance with the above legend, or cow-gored in reference to the story that the ancestors of the Kōmatis commingled in a cow-shed, where a pregnant woman was gored by a cow. The derivation ku-mati, meaning evil-minded, is grammatically impossible. The Kōmatis are said to have originally lived, and still live in large numbers on the banks of the Godāvari river. One of the local names thereof is Gōmati or Gōmti, and the Sanskrit Gōmati would, in Telugu, become corrupted into Kōmati.

The name Kōmati has been derived in various ways. Some say it's from ko-mati, meaning fox-minded, referring to the cunning nature of the Kōmatis in business, which likely stems from their unpopularity with customers. The term Kōmatiguttu (the secrecy of a Kōmati) is said to be a common expression. Others believe it comes from gō-mati, meaning the possessor of cows, as one of the Vaishya's duties is to protect cows. There are also claims that it derives from gō-mati, meaning cow-minded. A modern version of the Kanyakā Purāna, the sacred text of the Kōmatis, provides this interpretation. According to this work, the Kōmatis performed intense penance and were invited to heaven. Their prolonged absence from the mortal realm created significant issues, prompting Vishnu to ask them to return for the benefit of humanity. However, they refused. Vishnu then called upon Siva to persuade them to come back. Siva brought a cow and instructed all the Kōmatis to enter its right ear. From there, they witnessed beautifully decorated towns, grand temples, pleasure gardens, etc., and begged to stay in them. Siva agreed, and they quickly began to head toward their new homes. But soon, a massive fire appeared and started to engulf them. In a panic, they cried out to Siva for help. He agreed to assist on the condition that they would return to the mortal world. They complied. Siva named them Gōmati because they showed as much fear at the fire as a cow would when facing danger. Another derivation of Kōmati is gō-mati, meaning sprung from the cow, related to the above legend, or cow-gored, referencing the tale of the Kōmatis' ancestors merging in a cow-shed where a pregnant woman was gored by a cow. The derivation ku-mati, meaning evil-minded, is grammatically incorrect. The Kōmatis are said to have originally lived, and still do in large numbers, along the banks of the Godāvari River. One of the local names for the river is Gōmati or Gōmti, and the Sanskrit Gōmati would have been adopted into Telugu as Kōmati.

The Kōmatis everywhere speak Telugu, and are devoted to their mother-tongue. There is a common proverb among them, “Telugu thēta, Aravam adhvānam,” meaning that Telugu is easy (has an easy flow), and Tamil is wretched. “Of all Dravidian languages,” Mr. Henry Morris writes, “Telugu is the sweetest and most musical. It is exceedingly mellifluous, and sounds [308]harmonious even in the mouth of the most vulgar and illiterate. It has justly been called the Italian of the East.” Kōmatis are clever at learning languages other than their own. In the Tamil and Canarese districts, they are conversant with the languages thereof, and in Bombay they speak Marāthi. In the Ganjam and Vizagapatam Agencies, they speak the Kondh and Savara languages very fluently.

The Kōmatis everywhere speak Telugu and are dedicated to their mother tongue. There's a common saying among them: “Telugu thēta, Aravam adhvānam,” which means that Telugu flows easily, while Tamil is considered unpleasant. “Of all Dravidian languages,” Mr. Henry Morris writes, “Telugu is the sweetest and most musical. It’s incredibly melodious and sounds harmonious even from the most unrefined and uneducated speakers. It’s rightly been referred to as the Italian of the East.” Kōmatis are good at picking up languages other than their own. In the Tamil and Canarese regions, they speak those languages fluently, and in Bombay, they communicate in Marāthi. In the Ganjam and Vizagapatam Agencies, they are very fluent in the Kondh and Savara languages.

As a commercial caste, the Kōmatis have a secret trade language of their own, which is substantially the same all over the country. It will be seen from the tables given how complete their numerical tables are, ranging, as they do, from one pie to a thousand rupees. It will be observed that the rupee is represented by the word thēlupu, which means white. Some Tamil trading castes in like manner call the rupee vellē (white):—

As a business group, the Kōmatis have their own secret trade language that is pretty much the same throughout the country. The tables provided show just how comprehensive their numerical system is, covering everything from one pie to a thousand rupees. It’s noteworthy that the rupee is referred to as thēlupu, which means white. Similarly, some Tamil trading groups also call the rupee vellē (white):—

1. Pie table.

Pie chart.

Pies.
Nakili batu 1
Ke batu 2
Kēvu nakili batu 3
Rāyam batu 4
Rāyam nakili batu 5

2. Anna table.

Anna table.

Annas.
Thāpi kamanālu ¼
Nakili ana ½
Kēv ana 1
Kēvan nakili ana
Rāyam anālu 2
Uddulam anālu 3
Uddulam nakili anālu
Kungidu anālu 4
Sūlalu anālu 12

The word sūlalu is connected with trisūlam, the trident emblem of Siva, and sometimes used to denote three annas. [309]

The word sūlalu is related to trisūlam, the trident symbol of Siva, and is sometimes used to refer to three annas. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

3. Rupee table.

3. Rupee rates.

₹.
Thāpi thēlupu ¼
Nakili thēlupu ½
Kē thēlupu 1
Rāyam thēlupu 2
Uddulam thēlupu 3
Uddulam nakili thēlupu
Panam thēlupu 4
Mūlam thēlupu 5
Thīpam thēlupu 6
Māram thēlupu 7
Thāmam thēlupu 8
Navaram thēlupu 9
Gālam thēlupu 10
Rāyam gālālu 20
Uddulam gālālu 30
Panam gālālu 40
Mūlam gālālu 50
Thīpanam gālālu 60
Maram gālālu 70
Thāmam gālālu 80
Navaram gālālu 90
Kē savalu 100
Rāyam savalu 200
Uddulam savalu 300
Panam savalu 400
Mūlam savalu 500
Thīpanam savalu 600
Māram savalu 700
Thāmam savalu 800
Navaram savalu 900
Gālam savalu 1,000

4. Varāham (pagoda) table.

4. Varāham (pagoda) table.

Kē makaram 1
Rāyam makaram 2
Uddulam makaram 3
Panam makaram 4
Mūlam makaram 5
Thīpanam makaram 6
Māram makaram 7
Thāmam makaram 8
Navaram makaram 9
Gālam makaram 10

A common saying is that, if you commence at gālam, it will be settled at mūlam, or, in plain language, begin at ten varāhams, and the bargain will be closed at five. When one man says to another “Dōtu” or “Dōtra,” it means strike the bargain. If a Kōmati is the purchaser, and another says to him “Dōt ko,” it means take it.

A common saying goes that if you start at gālam, it will end at mūlam, or in simpler terms, start at ten varāhams, and the deal will be finalized at five. When one person says to another “Dōtu” or “Dōtra,” it means to make the deal. If a Kōmati is the buyer, and someone says to him “Dōt ko,” it means go ahead and take it.

The Kōmatis are a highly organised caste. In each place where they are settled there is a Pēdda Setti, who, among the Kalinga Kōmatis, is known as Puri Setti or Sēnāpathi. Among the latter, there is also a headman for several villages, who is styled Kularāju or Vaisyarāju. Each Pēdda Setti is assisted by a Mummadi Setti, who [310]assembles the castemen for the settlement of important questions, by fines, excommunication, etc. There is further a caste guru Bhāskarāchārya, whose duties are more religious than social. Kōmatis have recourse to the established Courts of Justice only as a last resort. They are consulted by other castes in the settlement of their disputes, and it must be said to their credit that their decisions are usually sound, and bear ample testimony to the confidence which is placed in them.

The Kōmatis are a very organized group. In every area they settle, there’s a Pēdda Setti, known as Puri Setti or Sēnāpathi among the Kalinga Kōmatis. There’s also a headman for several villages, called Kularāju or Vaisyarāju. Each Pēdda Setti has the support of a Mummadi Setti, who [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] gathers the community to address important issues, using methods like fines or excommunication. Additionally, there’s a caste guru named Bhāskarāchārya, whose role leans more toward religious duties than social ones. Kōmatis typically turn to the established Courts of Justice only as a last option. Other castes often consult them to resolve disputes, and it’s worth noting that their decisions are generally reliable, reflecting the trust placed in them.

The Kōmatis are, broadly speaking, divided into two great sections, called Gavara and Kalinga. The former live as far north of Vizianagram, and are then replaced by the latter. The Gavaras or Gauras are said to be so called because, by following the caste goddess Kanyakamma into the fire-pits, they maintained the gauravam or social status of the caste. According to another version, they are so called because they revere Gauri (Parvati), the consort of Siva, whose incarnation was the goddess Kanyakamma. The Kalinga Kōmatis are those who live in the old Kalinga or Kling country, which extended roughly from Vizagapatam to Orissa. They are forbidden to settle beyond Rāmatīrtham, a place of pilgrimage close to Vizianagram. The story goes that their ancestors lived at Padmanābham, the hill close to Bimlipatam, well known from the battle which took place close to it in 1794, and there sustained great losses. Hence the place was deserted, and has ever since been regarded as inauspicious. The Kōmatis have since that time not resided at any place from which the hill can be seen. In fact, they make their first appearance at Chīpurupalli, and increase in numbers as we go north-eastward. The Kalinga Kōmatis believe themselves to be Gavara Kōmatis, who became separated from the main stock owing to their emigration from their original [311]home. Their meat-eating habit has, they say, widened the breach which separates the two divisions.

The Kōmatis are generally divided into two main groups, called Gavara and Kalinga. The Gavara live to the north of Vizianagram, and then the Kalinga take over. The Gavaras, or Gauras, are said to have gotten their name because they followed the caste goddess Kanyakamma into the fire-pits, maintaining the gauravam or social status of their caste. Another explanation is that they are named after Gauri (Parvati), the wife of Siva, whose incarnation was the goddess Kanyakamma. The Kalinga Kōmatis reside in the old Kalinga or Kling region, which stretched roughly from Vizagapatam to Orissa. They are not allowed to live beyond Rāmatīrtham, a pilgrimage site near Vizianagram. According to legend, their ancestors lived at Padmanābham, the hill near Bimlipatam, which is notorious for the battle that occurred there in 1794, where they suffered significant losses. As a result, the area was abandoned and has since been seen as unlucky. Since then, the Kōmatis have avoided living anywhere from which the hill is visible. They first appear at Chīpurupalli and their numbers increase as you move northeast. The Kalinga Kōmatis consider themselves to be Gavara Kōmatis who became separated from the main group due to their migration from their original [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]home. They believe that their practice of eating meat has further widened the divide between the two groups.

While the Kalinga Kōmatis form a fairly compact division by themselves, the Gavaras have become more and more sub-divided. Their sub-divisions are either territorial, occupational, or religious in character. Thus there are Penukonda and Vēginādu Kōmatis, of whom the former belong to the town of Penukonda in the Godāvari district, and the latter to the Vēgi or Vēngi country, the former name of part of the modern Kistna district. Again, there are Trinikas or Traivarnikas (third caste people), who are invariably Vaishnavas, and to which section a good many of the Kōmatis in the city of Madras belong. Lingadhāri Kōmatis are found mostly in the Vizagapatam, Godāvari, Guntūr and Kistna districts. They wear the lingam in a gold or silver casket. Besides these, there are the Siva, Vaishnava, and Mādhva Kōmatis, of which the last are mostly found in the Bellary district. Of occupational sub-divisions, the following may be noted:— Nūnē (oil); Nēthi (ghī, clarified butter); Dūdi (cotton); Uppu (salt); Gōnē (gunny-bag); Gantha (torn cloth). Lastly, there are other divisions, of which the origin dates back to the time of Kanyakamma, the caste goddess. Thus, there are those who entered the fire-pits with Kanyakamma, and those who did not. The former are known as Vēgina, and the latter as Bēri, which is said to be a corruption of Bēdari, meaning those who fled through fear. All Gavara Kōmatis are said to be descended from those who entered the fire-pits. The majority of the Kōmatis of the Sandūr State, in the Bellary district, belong to the Kallankanadavaru section, which is said to be descended from those who sat on the stone (kallu) mantapa outside the Penukonda Kanyakamma temple, [312]when the question whether to enter the fire-pits or not was being discussed by the caste elders.

While the Kalinga Kōmatis are a fairly compact group on their own, the Gavaras have become more and more divided. Their divisions are based on territory, occupation, or religion. For example, there are Penukonda and Vēginādu Kōmatis; the former are from the town of Penukonda in the Godāvari district, and the latter are from the Vēgi or Vēngi region, which is the earlier name for part of the modern Kistna district. Additionally, there are Trinikas or Traivarnikas (members of the third caste), who are always Vaishnavas, and many of the Kōmatis in the city of Madras belong to this group. Lingadhāri Kōmatis are found mainly in the Vizagapatam, Godāvari, Guntūr, and Kistna districts. They wear a lingam in a gold or silver casket. Other Kōmatis include Siva, Vaishnava, and Mādhva, with the last group primarily located in the Bellary district. Notable occupational subdivisions include: Nūnē (oil), Nēthi (ghī, clarified butter), Dūdi (cotton), Uppu (salt), Gōnē (gunny-bag), and Gantha (torn cloth). Lastly, there are other divisions that trace their origins back to the time of Kanyakamma, the caste goddess. There are those who entered the fire-pits with Kanyakamma, known as Vēgina, and those who did not, referred to as Bēri, which is believed to be a corruption of Bēdari, meaning those who fled in fear. All Gavara Kōmatis are said to be descended from those who entered the fire-pits. Most of the Kōmatis in the Sandūr State, in the Bellary district, belong to the Kallankanadavaru section, which is said to be descended from those who sat on the stone (kallu) mantapa outside the Penukonda Kanyakamma temple, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] when the issue of whether to enter the fire-pits or not was discussed by the caste elders.

The mutual relations between the various sub-divisions vary much. Broadly speaking, Gavaras and Kalingas do not intermarry, and the objection to intermarriage is due to several causes. The former, according to the caste Purāna, gave their lives to their goddess, while the latter did not. Moreover, the former do not partake of animal food and spirituous drinks, whereas the latter do. Lingadhāris and ordinary Saivites intermarry, as also do Saivites and Mādhvas. Gavaras and Traivarnikas occasionally intermarry, but such marriages are looked down upon. The Traivarnikas, like the Kalingas, eat animal food. The occupational sub-divisions neither intermarry nor interdine. Socially, the Gavaras are held in the highest esteem, while the Beris are regarded as the lowest in the social scale.

The relationships between the different sub-divisions vary greatly. Generally speaking, Gavaras and Kalingas do not intermarry, and this is due to several reasons. The Gavaras, according to their caste traditions, have dedicated their lives to their goddess, while the Kalingas have not. Additionally, Gavaras do not consume meat or alcohol, whereas the Kalingas do. Lingadhāris and regular Saivites can intermarry, as well as Saivites and Mādhvas. Gavaras and Traivarnikas occasionally marry, but such unions are looked down upon. Traivarnikas, like Kalingas, eat meat. The different occupational sub-divisions neither intermarry nor share meals. Socially, Gavaras are held in high regard, while Beris are seen as the lowest on the social ladder.

The sub-divisions are split up into septs, which are of a strictly exogamous character. That these originated in totemistic belief seems to be supported by what remains of these beliefs at the present day. All the sub-divisions contain such septs, which are very numerous, the names of as many as a hundred and twenty having been collected. The tendency for a long time past has been to reduce the number to a hundred and two, to represent the number of families which followed Kanyakamma to the fire-pits. It would be tedious to enumerate the names of all these septs, from which the following, with the corresponding totems, are selected:—

The subdivisions are divided into clans, which are strictly exogamous. The fact that these originated from totemistic beliefs is supported by the remnants of these beliefs today. All the subdivisions contain these clans, which are quite numerous; as many as one hundred and twenty names have been collected. For a long time now, there's been a trend to reduce the number to one hundred and two, to represent the number of families that followed Kanyakamma to the fire-pits. It would be tedious to list all these clans, so here are a few selected ones, along with their corresponding totems:—

(a) Plants.

Munikula Agasi (Sesbania grandiflora).
Amalaka or Usiri Āmalaka or Usiri (Phyllanthus Emblica).
Anupa or Anupāla Anupala (Dolichos Lablab).
Tulasi or Tulashishta. Tulasi (Ocimum sanctum).[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
Chinta, Chintya, or Varachinta. Chinta (Tamarindus indica).
Vakkala Vakkalu (Areca Catechu).
Puchcha Puchcha (Citrullus Colocynthis).
Padma-sista Padma (red lotus).
Kamala Kamalam (white lotus).
Aranta Arati (Musa sapientum: plantain).
Thōtakula Thōtakūra (Amarantus, sp.).
Uthakula Uththarēni (Achyranthes aspera).
Mandu Māmadikāya (Mangifera indica).
Dikshama Drākshapandu (grapes).
Venkōla Vankāya (Solanum Melongena: brinjal).
Sauna Sāmanthi (Chrysanthemum indicum).

(b) Animals.

Gōsīla, Sathya Gōsīla, and Uthama Gōsīla. Cow.
Asthi Elephant.
Enupa Buffalo.
Ghōnta Horse.
Ananta Cobra.
Bhramada or Bhramara Bee.

(c) Heavenly bodies.

Arka or Sūrya Sun.
Chandra, Chandra Sishta, Suchandra, or Vannavamsam. Moon.

It may be observed that the totems are variously termed gōtram, vamsam, and kulam. The first of these is in imitation of the Brāhman gōtras. Vamsam is the bams of the Agency tracts of Ganjam, Vizagapatam, and the Godāvari districts. The name means bamboo, and denotes a family, whose branches are as countless as those of a bamboo. Kulam is used as the equivalent of [314]group or family. The totem objects are revered in the usual way, and no secret is made of the reverence shown to them. In regard to plant totems, it is stated that, if the totem objects are not strictly treated as tabu, delinquents will be born as insects for seven generations. But an exception is allowed. A person who wishes to eat the forbidden plant may do so by annually performing the funeral ceremonies of the totem ancestor at Gāya, the great Hindu place of pilgrimage where obsequial ceremonies to ancestors are performed.

It can be seen that the totems are referred to as gōtram, vamsam, and kulam. The first term is modeled after the Brāhman gōtras. Vamsam refers to the bams found in the Agency areas of Ganjam, Vizagapatam, and the Godāvari districts. This name means bamboo, symbolizing a family with branches as numerous as those of a bamboo plant. Kulam serves as the equivalent of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]group or family. The totem objects are honored in the usual manner, and there is no secrecy about the respect given to them. Regarding plant totems, it is said that if the totem objects are not treated as tabu, wrongdoers will be reincarnated as insects for seven generations. However, there is an exception. A person who wants to consume the forbidden plant can do so by performing the annual funeral rites for the totem ancestor at Gāya, the major Hindu pilgrimage site where rituals for ancestors are conducted.

In recent times, the Kōmatis have claimed to be the Vaisyas mentioned in the Vēdic Purusha-sūkta. Accordingly, the totems have been arranged under the different Brāhmanical gōtras, whose pravaras have been appropriated. Thus, Munikula and four others are grouped under Madgalya Rishi gōtra, whose pravara is given for all the five. Similarly, Vakkāla kula and another kula come under Vāyavya Rishi; Ghōnta kula under Goupaka Rishi; Arati, Arisishta and a few others under Atri Rishi; Anupa kula under Agasthya Rishi, and so on. It is said that the totem names are secret names (sankēta nāmamulu) given by Kanyakamma, in order that the bearers thereof may be distinguished from those who did not take up her cause. All sub-divisions of the caste, however, have these septs in common.

In recent times, the Kōmatis have claimed to be the Vaisyas mentioned in the Vēdic Purusha-sūkta. Accordingly, the totems have been organized under different Brāhmanical gōtras, whose pravaras have been adopted. So, Munikula and four others are grouped under Madgalya Rishi gōtra, which is listed for all five. Similarly, Vakkāla kula and another kula fall under Vāyavya Rishi; Ghōnta kula under Goupaka Rishi; Arati, Arisishta, and a few others under Atri Rishi; Anupa kula under Agasthya Rishi, and so on. It is said that the totem names are secret names (sankēta nāmamulu) given by Kanyakamma, so that the people who have them can be distinguished from those who did not support her cause. All sub-divisions of the caste, however, share these septs in common.

In the northern parts of the Madras Presidency, the sept is further sub-divided into sections called intipērulu (house names). These are either named after some distinguished ancestor, or the place where the family once lived before emigrating to their present abode. These intipērulu are purely exogamous.

In the northern regions of the Madras Presidency, the sept is further broken down into sections known as intipērulu (house names). These names are either derived from a notable ancestor or from the location where the family lived before moving to their current home. These intipērulu are strictly exogamous.

A Kōmati can claim his maternal uncle’s daughter in marriage, in accordance with the custom of mēnarikam. The rigidity with which this right is exercised is testified [315]by the sacred book of the caste—the Kanyakā Purāna. On their descent from heaven, it is said, the Kōmatis settled in eighteen towns (ashtā dasapuramulu), which had been built by Visvakarma under the orders of Siva. These towns are said to be situated in a tract of country sixty-four yojanas in extent, and bounded on the east by the Gautami (Godāvari), on the south by the sea, on the west by the Gōstani, and on the north by the Ganges. Of these, Penukonda, in the modern Godāvari district, was the capital. In it are the temples of Nagariswaraswāmi (dedicated to Siva), and Janardhanaswāmi (dedicated to Vishnu). Its Pedda Setti was Kusama Srēshti, and his wife was Kusamāmba. He performed Putra Kāmēshti sacrifice, and was blessed with a son and daughter. The former was named Virupāksha, and the latter Vāsavāmbika (Vāsavakanya, Kanyakamma, or Kanyaka Paramēswari). The girl was possessed of indescribable beauty. Vishnu Vardhana, the son of Vijayarka of the lineage of the moon, who had his capital at Rājamundry, while on a pleasure tour round his dominions, halted at Penugonda, on learning that it was ruled by Setti Rājas, who paid no tribute to him. Being informed of his arrival by their boys, the caste elders, headed by Kusuma Setti, welcomed him, and took him in procession through the town. Then the women of the place waved ārathi before him. Among them was the beautiful Vāsavāmbika, with whom the king instantly fell in love. He proposed to her father that he should give her in marriage to himself, and in return obtain the gift of half of his kingdom. Kusuma Srēshti protested, and said that the sāstras were against such a union. The king, through his minister, threatened that he would plunder his town, take him prisoner, and, with the riches of the place, carry off his daughter, [316]and marry her. The Setti chief and his compatriots prayed for time to think over the matter, and retired. The chief then called a meeting of the castemen, at which it was decided that they should make a false promise to the king that they would give the girl in marriage to him, and send him off with a dinner, to return to Penugonda for the marriage after the lapse of a couple of months. Meanwhile, the boys of the town assembled, and resolved that the dinner ought not to be given. They informed their elders of this resolution, and were commissioned to induce the king to leave the town without it. This they did, with the ambiguous promise that, if they did not give the girl in marriage to him, they would kill themselves. On this, the king went off towards his capital, and Kusuma Setti called a caste meeting of the eighteen towns, at which various proposals were made. One proposed that the girl should not be given in marriage, and that, if the king came to claim her hand, he should be driven off. Another proposed that they should give the girl to the king, and save themselves from ruin. Others suggested that it would be best to marry the king to a substituted girl, to secrete the coveted girl, or to bribe the ministers to induce the king to abandon his intention of marrying her. The last of these proposals was adopted, and a few elders were sent to Rājamundry, to negotiate the affair. They first argued that, though they promised to give the girl in marriage, the promise was made through fear of the king’s anger, and they could not give the girl in contravention of the rule of mēnarikam. The king, in his fury, ordered that the troops should immediately besiege the eighteen towns, imprison the inhabitants in dark dungeons, and carry off the girl in a palanquin. On this, the envoys heavily bribed the ministers, and begged them [317]not to march the army on their towns. But the king would not yield, and sent his troops on Penugonda. The envoys returned home, and narrated their sad tale. A further meeting of the castemen was called at the instance of Bhāskarāchārya, the caste guru, and it was resolved that all who wished to maintain the caste rule of mēnarikam should prepare to kill themselves in burning fire-pits. The majority fled rather than comply with the resolution. Those, however, who determined to sacrifice themselves in the fire-pits were 102 gōtras in number, and they assembled in council, and asked Kusuma Srēshti to induce his daughter (who was only seven years old) to die with them. To this she consented, and showed herself in her true form of Paramēsvari, the wife of Siva. On this, the Setti chief returned to his castemen, who asked him to get 103 fire-pits ready in the western portion of the town before the arrival of the king. These were accordingly dug, and decorated with festoons and plantain trunks at the four corners. Then the heads of the 102 gōtras assembled, with their wives, in the courtyard of the temple of Nagarēsvaraswāmi, where Vāsavāmbika was symbolically married to the god. The headmen then tied on vīra kankanams (heroes’ wrist-threads), and marched in a body, with Vāsavāmbika, to the fire-pits. There they gave counsel to their children that they should not ask vōli (bride-price) for the marriage of their daughters, or communicate their secrets to females, or allow karnams (village accountants), rulers, unbelievers, or those universally abused into their homes. They further counselled them to give their daughters in marriage to the sons of their paternal aunts, even though they should be black-skinned, plain, blind of one eye, senseless, or of vicious habits, and though their horoscopes did not agree, and [318]the omens were inauspicious. They were warned that, if they failed in so doing, they would lose their riches, and misfortune would fall on their families. Moreover, full power was given to the castemen to excommunicate the delinquents, and put them outside the town limits. If the transgressors subsequently repented, they were, after the lapse of six months, to be sent to Kāsi (Benares), bathe in the Ganges, and return to their home. There they were to openly express their regret for their past conduct, fast the whole day, feed Brāhmans, and present them with three hundred cows, and hear the Mahābhāratha during the night. On the following day, they were again to fast, present two hundred cows to Brāhmans and feast them, and hear the Rāmayana during the night. On the third day, they were once more to fast, present a hundred cows, and hear the Bhāgavatam during the night. On the fourth day, they were again to feast Brāhmans, and worship Nagarēsvaraswāmi of Penugonda, and thus purge themselves from the sin of contravening the rule of mēnarikam. But they were not bound to follow the rule, if the paternal aunt’s son was totally blind, deaf, insane, stricken with disease, a eunuch, thief, idiot, leper, dwarf, or immoral, or if an old man or younger than the girl. The children were further advised to respect, at the time of their marriage, the families whose heads went as envoys to the king at Rājamundry, and the boys who made false promises to the king, and induced him to withdraw to his capital. The heads of the families then made various gifts to Brāhmans, and asked Vāsavāmbika to enter the pit. In her true form of Paramēsvari, she blessed those gōtras which had resolved to follow her, and announced that those who had fled would be nameless and without caste. She then declared that, immediately Vishnu [319]Vardhana entered Penugonda, his head would fall severed from his neck. Finally, she invoked Brahma not to create thenceforth beautiful girls in the caste in which she was born, and prayed that in future they should be short of stature, with gaping mouth, disproportionate legs, broad ears, crooked hands, red hair, sunken eyes, dilated eye-balls, insane looks, broad noses and wide nostrils, hairy body, black skin, and protruding teeth. She then jumped into her pit, and immediately afterwards the heads of the 102 gōtras, with their wives, fell into their respective pits, and were reduced to ashes. On the morrow, Vishnu Vardhana started on his journey from Rājamundry to Penugonda. Brāhmans portended evil, and a voice from heaven said that he would lose his life. An evil spirit obstructed him, and it rained blood. Lightning struck men, and numerous other signs of impending evil occurred. Arrived at Penugonda, Vishnu Vardhana was informed that the castemen and Vāsavāmbika had been burnt in the fire-pits. Stunned by the news, he fell from his elephant, and his head was severed from his body, and broke into a thousand pieces. His broken head and body were carried by his followers to Rājamundry, and cremated by his son Rāja Rāja Narēndra. Then the latter pacified the citizens of Penugonda, and appointed Virupāksha, the son of Kusuma Srēshti, Pedda Setti of the towns. The 102 families performed funeral rites for their dead parents, visited Kāsi and Rāmēsvaram, and built a temple in honour of Vāsavāmbika at Penugonda, in which they placed an image in her name, and worshipped it ever afterwards.

A Kōmati can marry his maternal uncle’s daughter, following the custom of mēnarikam. The strictness of this right is confirmed [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]by the sacred book of the caste—the Kanyakā Purāna. It is said that when they descended from heaven, the Kōmatis settled in eighteen towns (ashtā dasapuramulu), which were built by Visvakarma under Siva's orders. These towns are said to cover an area of sixty-four yojanas and are bordered on the east by the Gautami (Godāvari), on the south by the sea, on the west by the Gōstani, and on the north by the Ganges. Among these, Penukonda, in the present-day Godāvari district, was the capital. It houses the temples of Nagariswaraswāmi (dedicated to Siva) and Janardhanaswāmi (dedicated to Vishnu). Its Pedda Setti was Kusama Srēshti, and his wife was Kusamāmba. He performed the Putra Kāmēshti sacrifice and was blessed with a son and daughter. The son was named Virupāksha, and the daughter was Vāsavāmbika (Vāsavakanya, Kanyakamma, or Kanyaka Paramēswari). The girl was incredibly beautiful. Vishnu Vardhana, the son of Vijayarka from the lunar lineage, who had his capital at Rājamundry, paused during a pleasure tour around his kingdom when he learned that Penugonda was ruled by Setti Rājas, who paid no tribute to him. Upon hearing that he had arrived, the caste elders, led by Kusuma Setti, welcomed him and took him in a procession through the town. The women waved ārathi before him, including the stunning Vāsavāmbika, whom the king instantly fell in love with. He asked her father to marry her to him in exchange for half of his kingdom. Kusuma Srēshti objected, stating that the sāstras opposed such a union. The king, through his minister, threatened to plunder the town, imprison him, and take his daughter. The Setti chief and his companions requested time to consider the matter and then withdrew. The chief convened a meeting among the castemen, where it was agreed that they should falsely promise the king they would give him the girl in marriage and send him off with a dinner, returning to Penugonda for the marriage after a couple of months. Meanwhile, the town's boys gathered and resolved that the dinner should not be offered. They informed their elders of this decision and were tasked with convincing the king to leave without it. They did this with the vague promise that if they didn’t give the girl to him, they would take their own lives. Following this, the king headed towards his capital, and Kusuma Setti called a caste meeting of the eighteen towns where various proposals were made. One suggested that the girl should not be given, and if the king came for her, he should be driven away. Another proposed that they should marry the girl to the king to save themselves from destruction, while others suggested marrying the king to a substitute girl, hiding the desired girl, or bribing the ministers to dissuade the king from marrying her. The last suggestion was chosen, and some elders were sent to Rājamundry to bargain the situation. They first argued that although they promised to give the girl to the king, it was made under fear of his anger and they couldn't go against the rule of mēnarikam. In his rage, the king ordered troops to immediately besiege the eighteen towns, imprison the residents in dark dungeons, and take the girl in a palanquin. Therefore, the envoys heavily bribed the ministers and pleaded [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]not to lead the army against their towns. Still, the king refused and directed his troops to Penugonda. The envoys returned home and shared their troubling story. A further gathering of the castemen was called at the request of Bhaskara, the caste guru, where it was resolved that anyone who wished to uphold the caste rule of mēnarikam should be prepared to self-immolate in fire pits. Most fled rather than comply with the resolution. However, 102 gōtras committed to sacrificing themselves in the fire pits, gathered in council, and asked Kusuma Srēshti to persuade his seven-year-old daughter to join them. She agreed and revealed her true form as Paramēsvari, the wife of Siva. The Setti chief returned to his castemen, who asked him to prepare 103 fire pits in the town's western section before the king’s arrival. These were dug and adorned with garlands and plantain trunks. The heads of the 102 gōtras, along with their wives, gathered in the temple courtyard of Nagarēsvaraswāmi, where Vāsavāmbika was symbolically married to the god. The headmen then tied on vīra kankanams (heroes’ wrist threads) and marched together with Vāsavāmbika to the fire pits. They instructed their children never to ask for vōli (bride-price) for their daughters' marriages, not to share secrets with women, nor allow karnams (village accountants), rulers, non-believers, or those universally disparaged into their homes. They advised giving their daughters in marriage to their paternal aunt’s sons, even if they were ugly, plain, blind in one eye, foolish, or had bad habits, despite mismatched horoscopes or inauspicious omens. They warned that failing to do so would lead to the loss of their wealth and misfortune for their families. Moreover, they granted full authority to the castemen to excommunicate anyone who broke these rules and banish them outside the town limits. If transgressors regretted their actions later, after six months, they were to go to Kāsi (Benares), bathe in the Ganges, and return home. They were to publicly express their remorse for their past behavior, fast the entire day, feed Brāhmans, offer three hundred cows, and listen to the Mahābhāratha at night. The next day, they would fast again, offer two hundred cows to Brāhmans, feast them, and hear the Rāmayana during the night. On the third day, they would once more fast, present a hundred cows, and listen to the Bhāgavatam at night. On the fourth day, they would feast Brāhmans and worship Nagarēsvaraswāmi of Penugonda, thus atoning for violating the rule of mēnarikam. However, they were not obliged to follow this rule if the paternal aunt’s son was completely blind, deaf, insane, sick, a eunuch, a thief, an idiot, a leper, a dwarf, or immoral, or if he were older or younger than the girl. The children were also advised to show respect at their marriages to the families whose heads had gone as envoys to the king in Rājamundry, and to the boys who made false promises to the king and persuaded him to retreat. The family heads then made various offerings to Brāhmans and asked Vāsavāmbika to enter the fire pit. In her true form as Paramēsvari, she blessed those gōtras dedicated to following her and proclaimed that those who fled would remain nameless and without caste. She announced that once Vishnu [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Vardhana entered Penugonda, his head would be severed from his body. She finally invoked Brahma not to create beautiful girls in her caste henceforth and prayed that they would instead be short, with wide mouths, disproportionate limbs, large ears, crooked hands, red hair, sunk eyes, bulging eyeballs, mad expressions, broad noses, and wide nostrils, hairy bodies, black skin, and protruding teeth. She then jumped into her pit, and shortly after, the heads of the 102 gōtras, with their wives, followed suit and were turned to ashes. The next day, Vishnu Vardhana set out from Rājamundry to Penugonda. Brāhmans predicted danger, and a voice from the heavens warned he would lose his life. An evil spirit obstructed him, and it rained blood. Lightning struck men, and numerous other signs of imminent disaster occurred. Upon reaching Penugonda, Vishnu Vardhana learned that the castemen and Vāsavāmbika had perished in the fire pits. Shocked by the news, he fell from his elephant, and his head was severed from his body, scattering into a thousand pieces. His dismembered remains were taken by his followers back to Rājamundry, where they were cremated by his son Rāja Rāja Narēndra. Subsequently, he calmed the citizens of Penugonda and appointed Virupāksha, the son of Kusuma Srēshti, as the new Pedda Setti of the towns. The 102 families performed last rites for their deceased, visited Kāsi and Rāmēsvaram, and built a temple in honor of Vāsavāmbika in Penugonda, where they installed an image in her name and worshipped it forever after.

Popular versions of the story here related from the Purāna are told all over Southern India, where Kōmatis live. One of the most singular of these is narrated by [320]Bishop Whitehead.139 “The story,” he writes, “goes that, in ancient days, there was a bitter hatred between the Kōmatis, who claim to belong to the Vaisya caste, and the Mlechas or barbarians. When the Kōmatis were getting worsted in the struggle for supremacy, they requested Parvati, the wife of Siva, to come and deliver them. It so happened that about that time Parvati was incarnate as a girl of the Kōmati caste, who was exceedingly beautiful. The Mlechas demanded that she should be given in marriage to one of their own people, and the refusal of the Kōmatis led to severe fighting, in which the Kōmatis, owing to the presence of the avatar of Siva among them, were completely victorious, and almost exterminated their enemies. After their victory, the Kōmatis entertained doubts as to the chastity of the girl, and compelled her to purify herself by passing through fire. This she did, and disappeared in the fire, resuming her real shape as Parvati, and taking her place beside Siva in heaven. Her last words were a command to the Kōmatis to worship her, if they wished their caste to prosper.”

Popular versions of the story told in the Purāna are shared throughout Southern India, where the Kōmatis live. One of the most unique of these is recounted by [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Bishop Whitehead.139 “The story,” he writes, “says that, in ancient times, there was intense hatred between the Kōmatis, who claim to belong to the Vaisya caste, and the Mlechas or barbarians. When the Kōmatis were losing the struggle for dominance, they asked Parvati, the wife of Siva, to come and help them. At that time, Parvati happened to be incarnated as a girl from the Kōmati caste, who was exceptionally beautiful. The Mlechas demanded that she be married to one of their own, and the Kōmatis' refusal led to intense fighting, in which the Kōmatis, thanks to the presence of Siva's avatar among them, were completely victorious, nearly wiping out their enemies. After winning, the Kōmatis began to doubt the girl's purity and forced her to prove herself by walking through fire. She did so and vanished into the flames, returning to her true form as Parvati and taking her place beside Siva in heaven. Her final words were a command to the Kōmatis to worship her if they wanted their caste to thrive.”

Kōmati.

Kōmati.

Kōmati.

It is impossible to identify with certainty the Vishnu Vardhana of the Purāna. There are as many as eleven individuals of that name known in Eastern Chalukyan history. The Purāna refers to Vishnu Vardhana, the son of Vijayarka, who had his capital at Rājamundry. His son, according to the same authority, was Rāja Rāja Narēndra. According to the Mackenzie manuscripts, the town of Rājamundry was founded by a king named Vijayāditya Mahēndra, who has not been identified. Dr. Fleet is of opinion that Vishnu Vardhana VI, who ruled between 918 and 925 A.D., was the first to [321]occupy, and re-name it. He, therefore, called himself Rājamahēndra. Amma II, who ruled between 945 and 970 A.D., bore the same title. His brother and successor was Danarnaya (970—73 A.D.). Passing over the hiatus of thirty years, when the country was in the hands of the Chōlas, we come to the reign of Saktivarman, the eldest son of Danarnaya. If we are to believe the Kanyaka Purāna, then we must identify this Saktivarman with its Vijayarka. Saktivarman’s successor, according to inscriptions, was Vimalāditya, who must be identified with the Vishnu Vardhana of the Purāna. Vimalāditya’s son, according to inscriptions, was Rāja Rāja I, surnamed Vishnu Vardhana VIII. He has been identified with the Rāja Rāja Narēndra of current tradition in the Telugu country, to whom Nannayya Bhatta dedicated his translation of the Mahābhāratha. He must also be the Rāja Rāja Narēndra of the Purāna. If that is so, we must set down the cardinal incidents mentioned in it to the first quarter of the 11th century A.D. The actual spots where the principal events of the tragedy were enacted are still pointed out at Penugonda. Thus, the garden in which king Vishnu Vardhana halted is said to be the site on which the hamlet of Vanampalli (meaning village of gardens) stands at present. The spot where the huge fire-pit for Kanyakamma was dug is pointed out as having been in field Nos. 63/3 and 63/4 to the north of the now non-existent Nagarasamudram tank. The 102 other pits were, it is said, in the fields round the bund (embankment) of this tank. The tank is now under cultivation, but faint traces of the bund are said to be still visible. It is about two furlongs to the north-west of the temple of Nagarēsvaraswāmi. It is locally believed that Kanyakamma’s fire-pit was, on the morning following her tragic [322]end, found to contain, among the ashes, a golden likeness of herself, which was placed by the side of the image of Nagarēswara, to whom she had been married. Long afterwards, the golden image was removed, and one in stone substituted for it, in accordance, it is said, with the direction of Kanyakamma, who appeared to one of the townsmen in a dream.

It’s impossible to definitely identify the Vishnu Vardhana mentioned in the Purāna. There are as many as eleven people with that name in Eastern Chalukyan history. The Purāna talks about Vishnu Vardhana, the son of Vijayarka, who had his capital at Rājamundry. According to the same source, his son was Rāja Rāja Narēndra. The Mackenzie manuscripts suggest that the town of Rājamundry was founded by a king named Vijayāditya Mahēndra, who hasn’t been identified. Dr. Fleet believes that Vishnu Vardhana VI, who ruled from 918 to 925 A.D., was the first to take control of it and rename it. He referred to himself as Rājamahēndra. Amma II, who ruled from 945 to 970 A.D., held the same title. His brother and successor was Danarnaya (970—73 A.D.). Skipping over a thirty-year gap when the Chōlas were in power, we arrive at the reign of Saktivarman, the eldest son of Danarnaya. If we trust the Kanyaka Purāna, we must associate this Saktivarman with its Vijayarka. His successor, according to inscriptions, was Vimalāditya, who we must link to the Vishnu Vardhana of the Purāna. Vimalāditya’s son, according to inscriptions, was Rāja Rāja I, also known as Vishnu Vardhana VIII. He has been identified as the Rāja Rāja Narēndra of current tradition in the Telugu region, to whom Nannayya Bhatta dedicated his translation of the Mahābhāratha. He must also be the Rāja Rāja Narēndra of the Purāna. If that’s the case, we can place the key events described in it in the first quarter of the 11th century A.D. The actual locations of the main events of the tragedy are still marked at Penugonda. For instance, the garden where King Vishnu Vardhana stopped is said to be the site where the hamlet of Vanampalli (meaning village of gardens) stands today. The location of the large fire-pit for Kanyakamma is said to be in fields Nos. 63/3 and 63/4, north of the now gone Nagarasamudram tank. The other 102 fire pits were reportedly in the fields around the embankment of this tank. The tank is now being cultivated, but faint traces of the embankment are still said to be visible. It’s about two furlongs northwest of the Nagarēsvaraswāmi temple. Locally, it is believed that Kanyakamma’s fire-pit was found the morning after her tragic end to contain, among the ashes, a golden likeness of herself, which was placed beside the image of Nagarēswara, to whom she had been married. Much later, the golden image was removed, and a stone one was put in its place, as per Kanyakamma’s direction, who appeared to one of the townsfolk in a dream.

The temple of Nagarēsvaraswāmi has several inscriptions on slabs, built into its prākāra, and elsewhere. One of these is on the gateway inside the prākāra walls. It opens with a glowing description of the powers of Nagarēsvaraswāmi in giving blessings and gifts, and refers to Penugonda as one of the eighteen towns built by Visvakarma, and presented by Siva to the Kōmatis as a place of residence. The object of the inscription appears to be to record the restoration by one Kothalinga, a Kōmati whose genealogy is given, of the great town (Penugonda), which had been burnt to ashes by a Gajapathi king. He is also stated to have made grants of tanks, wells, and pleasure gardens, for the benefit of Nagarēsvaraswāmi, for whose daily offerings and the celebration of festivals he provided by the grants of the villages of Mummadi, Ninagēpūdi, Vāranāsi, Kālkavēru, and Mathampūdi, all included in the town of Penugonda. Various inscriptions show that, from so early a time as 1488 A.D., if not from still earlier times, the temple had become popular with the Kōmatis, and got intertwined with the statements now found in the Purāna. Rai Bahādur V. Venkayya, Government Epigraphist, writes to say that the Tēki plates found in the Rāmachandrāpuram taluk of the Godāvari district, and published by Dr. E. Hultzsch,140 may refer to some Kōmatis. The [323]edict contained in it was, according to Dr. Hultzsch, probably issued about 1086 A.D., and records the grant of certain honorary privileges on the descendants of a family of merchants belonging to the Teliki family.

The temple of Nagarēsvaraswāmi has several inscriptions on slabs, built into its walls, and elsewhere. One of these is on the gateway inside the temple walls. It begins with a glowing description of Nagarēsvaraswāmi’s powers to bestow blessings and gifts, mentioning Penugonda as one of the eighteen towns constructed by Visvakarma and given by Siva to the Kōmatis as a place to live. The purpose of the inscription seems to be to document the restoration by Kothalinga, a Kōmati whose lineage is provided, of the great town (Penugonda), which had been reduced to ashes by a Gajapathi king. It also states that he made grants for tanks, wells, and pleasure gardens for the benefit of Nagarēsvaraswāmi, for whose daily offerings and the celebration of festivals he provided with grants from the villages of Mummadi, Ninagēpūdi, Vāranāsi, Kālkavēru, and Mathampūdi, all part of Penugonda. Various inscriptions show that as early as 1488 A.D., if not even earlier, the temple had become popular with the Kōmatis and had become linked with the accounts now found in the Purāna. Rai Bahādur V. Venkayya, Government Epigraphist, states that the Tēki plates found in the Rāmachandrāpuram taluk of the Godāvari district, published by Dr. E. Hultzsch, may refer to some Kōmatis. The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] edict contained in it was, according to Dr. Hultzsch, likely issued around 1086 A.D., and it records the grant of certain honorary privileges to the descendants of a merchant family belonging to the Teliki family.

That about the end of the 14th century A.D., the story of Kanyakamma was popular is obvious from the Telugu version of the Markandēya Purāna, which was composed by the poet Mārana, the disciple of Tikkana, the part author of the Telugu Bhārata. In this Purāna, the following episode, which bears a close resemblance to the story narrated in the Kanyaka Purāna, is introduced. A king, named Vrushadha, while on a hunting expedition, killed a cow, mistaking it for a “bison.” He was cursed by Bhābhravya, the son of a Rishi, who was in charge of it, and in consequence became a Sūdra, by name Anaghakāra. He had seven sons, a descendant of one of whom was Nābhāga, who fell in love with a Kōmati girl, and asked her parents to give her in marriage to him. The Kōmatis replied much in the same manner as Kusuma Srēshti and his friends did to the ministers of Vishnu Vardhana in the Kanyaka Purāna. Their answer will be found in canto VII, 223, of the Markandēya Purāna, which contains the earliest authentic literary reference to the name Kōmati. In effect they said “Thou art the ruler of the whole of this universe, Oh! King; we are but poor Kōmatis living by service. Say, then, how can we contract such a marriage?” The king was further dissuaded by his father and the Brāhmans. But all to no purpose. He carried off the girl, and married her in the rākshasa form (by forcible abduction), and, in consequence, in accordance with the law of Manu, became a Kōmati. He then performed penance, and again became a Kshatriya. It would seem that this episode, which is not found in the [324]Sanskrit Markandēya Purāna, is undoubtedly based on the incident recorded in the Kanyaka Purāna.

That towards the end of the 14th century A.D., the story of Kanyakamma was quite popular is evident from the Telugu version of the Markandēya Purāna, written by the poet Mārana, who was a disciple of Tikkana, one of the co-authors of the Telugu Bhārata. In this Purāna, there’s an episode that closely resembles the story told in the Kanyaka Purāna. A king named Vrushadha, while on a hunting trip, accidentally killed a cow, thinking it was a "bison." He was cursed by Bhābhravya, a sage's son who was responsible for the cow, and as a result, he became a Sūdra named Anaghakāra. He had seven sons, one of whom was Nābhāga, who fell in love with a Kōmati girl and asked her parents for her hand in marriage. The Kōmatis responded similarly to how Kusuma Srēshti and his friends replied to the ministers of Vishnu Vardhana in the Kanyaka Purāna. Their response can be found in canto VII, 223, of the Markandēya Purāna, which contains the earliest authentic literary reference to the name Kōmati. Basically, they said, “You are the ruler of the entire universe, Oh King; we are just poor Kōmatis living by serving others. So, how can we arrange such a marriage?” The king was also discouraged by his father and the Brāhmans, but it was all in vain. He abducted the girl and married her in the rākshasa style (by force), and as a result, according to Manu's law, he became a Kōmati. He then did penance and became a Kshatriya again. It seems that this episode, which doesn’t appear in the Sanskrit Markandēya Purāna, is definitely based on the event recorded in the Kanyaka Purāna.

There remain only three arguments to adduce in support of the suggestion that the chief event narrated in the Kanyaka Purāna is worthy of credence. In the marriage ceremonies as performed by the Kōmatis, some prominence is given to certain of the incidents alleged to have taken place in setting at naught the demands of king Vishnu Vardhana. Such, for instance, is the respect shown to the bāla nagaram boys, which is referred to later on. Secondly, there are certain castes which beg only from Kōmatis, in return for services rendered during this critical period of their history. These are the Mailāris and Vīramushtis. The former still carry round the villages an image of Kanyakamma, sing her story, and beg alms of devotees. The Vīramushtis are wrestlers, who, by acrobatic performances, delayed, by previous arrangement, the second advance of Vishnu Vardhana, before the Kōmatis committed themselves to the flames. Allied to these castes are the Bukka Kōmatis. Originally, it is explained, the Bukkas belonged to the Kōmati caste. When Kanyakamma threw herself into the fire-pit, they, instead of following her example, presented bukka powder, saffron, and kunkumum prepared by them to her. She directed that they should live apart from the faithful Kōmatis, and live by selling the articles which they offered to her. The Kalinga Kōmatis also have a beggar caste attached to them, called Jakkali-vāndlu, who have nothing to do with the Gavara Kōmati beggar castes. Thirdly, if we may place any faith in the stories told by other castes, e.g., the Jains of South Arcot, the Tottiyans, Kāppiliyans, and Bēri Chettis, the persecution of their subjects by their kings, in the manner indicated in the Kanyaka [325]Purāna, seems to have been widely practiced all over the country. And the method adopted by the Kōmatis to evade the king, and maintain the mēnarikam rule, has its counterpart in the popular ballad known as Lakshmammapata, still sung all over the Northern Circars, which gives a graphic description of the murder of his wife by a husband, who would not agree to giving their daughter away from his own sister’s son. Even now, the sentiment on this subject is so strong that a man who goes against the rule of mēnarikam, not only among the Kōmatis, but among all castes observing it, is looked down on. It is usually described as bending the twig from its natural course, and, as the twig would waste away and die in consequence, so would parties to such marriages not prosper. In 1839, according to the Asiatic Journal, a case was taken before the Supreme Court of Madras, in which the plaintiff brought an action against his uncle for giving his daughter away in marriage, without making him an offer of her hand. The Judges were anxious that the matter should be settled out of Court, but the parties disagreed so entirely that nothing less than a public trial would satisfy them. It has not been possible to trace the decision of the Court.

There are only three points to support the idea that the main event described in the Kanyaka Purāna is believable. In the marriage ceremonies conducted by the Kōmatis, certain incidents related to defying the demands of King Vishnu Vardhana are highlighted. For example, special respect is given to the bāla nagaram boys, which is mentioned later. Secondly, some castes only beg from Kōmatis in exchange for services rendered during this crucial time in their history. These include the Mailāris and Vīramushtis. The Mailāris still travel around villages with an image of Kanyakamma, singing her story and asking for donations from devotees. The Vīramushtis, who are wrestlers, perform acrobatic feats that were prearranged to delay King Vishnu Vardhana’s second attack until the Kōmatis decided to commit themselves to the flames. Connected to these castes are the Bukka Kōmatis. Originally, the Bukkas were part of the Kōmati caste. When Kanyakamma jumped into the fire, instead of following her, they offered her bukka powder, saffron, and kunkumum that they had prepared. She instructed them to live separately from the faithful Kōmatis and to make a living by selling the items they offered to her. The Kalinga Kōmatis also have a beggar caste associated with them, called Jakkali-vāndlu, who have no connection with the Gavara Kōmati beggar castes. Thirdly, if we can trust the accounts from other castes, like the Jains of South Arcot, the Tottiyans, Kāppiliyans, and Bēri Chettis, the persecution faced by their subjects at the hands of their kings, as described in the Kanyaka Purāna, seems to have been commonly practiced throughout the country. The Kōmatis' methods to evade the king and uphold the mēnarikam rule resemble the popular ballad known as Lakshmammapata, which is still sung across the Northern Circars. This ballad vividly recounts a husband who murders his wife for refusing to marry off their daughter to his sister’s son. Even today, the sentiment regarding this issue is so strong that a man who defies the rule of mēnarikam—both among the Kōmatis and other castes that observe it—is looked down upon. It’s often described as bending a twig from its natural path; just as the twig would wither and die, those involved in such marriages are believed not to thrive. In 1839, as reported by the Asiatic Journal, a case was brought before the Supreme Court of Madras, where a plaintiff sued his uncle for marrying off his daughter without offering her hand to him first. The judges wanted the matter to be settled outside of court, but the parties were so at odds that only a public trial would satisfy them. The decision of the court could not be traced.

The Kōmatis have for a long time been alleged to be connected with the Mādigas in a variety of ways. “The Kōmatis,” Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes, “do not as a rule deny the fact of this connection. The Mādigas are, indeed, apparently under the protection of the Kōmatis, apply to them for help when in trouble, and obtain loans and other assistance. Some Kōmatis explain the connection with the Mādigas by a story that either Vishnu Vardhana, or his successor Rājarāja Narēndra persecuted the Kōmatis, and that they had to fly for refuge to the Mādigas. The Mādigas took them [326]in, and hid them, and they say that the present favour shown to that caste is only in gratitude for the kindness shown to themselves in the past. The Kōmatis themselves do not admit the title Mid-day Mādigas (applied to them by other castes), but explain it by a story that long ago a Kōmati killed and ate a cow-buffalo, which was really no cow-buffalo, but the wife of a great sage who had transformed her into that shape in order that she might be safe when he was in contemplation. The saint accordingly cursed the caste, and said that they should be Mid-day Mādigas for ever more.” It is possible that the connection between the Kōmatis and Mādigas was originally such as that of the Kammālans, Ambattans, and other castes, with Paraiyans, Vettiyans, and other depressed classes, and that, in later times, weird stories were invented by fertile brains to explain them away. One of these undoubtedly is that which makes the Kōmatis the descendants of the issue of a plain Brāhman and a handsome Mādiga woman. It is said that their children managed a sweetmeat bazar, which the Brāhman kept in a much frequented forest, and, in his absence, pointed with a stick (kōl) to the plates, and thereby told their prices, without polluting the articles with the touch. Hence arose the name Kōlmutti (those who pointed with the stick), which became softened down to Kōmutti. Another story runs to the effect that the Mādiga woman, when she was pregnant with her first child, was gored by a cow, and gave birth to it in the cow-shed. Hence arises the name Gō-mutti, or cow-gored. In days gone by, it was incumbent on the Kōmatis to bear the marriage expenses of the Mādiga families attached to their village, much in the same way that the Chakkiliyan is treated in the Madura district by the Tottiyan caste in return [327]for the services he renders when a Tottiyan girl is under pollution on reaching maturity. In later times, this custom dwindled in some places141 to the payment of the expenses of the marriage of two Mādigas, and even this was abandoned in favour of inviting the Mādigas to their weddings. In the city of Madras, it would appear to have been customary, in the eighteenth century, for the Kōmatis to get the māngalyam or sathamānam (marriage badge) blessed by an aged Mādiga before it was tied on the bride’s neck. Further, it would appear to have then been customary to give the sacred fire, used at marriages for the performance of hōmam, to a Mādiga, and receive it back from him.

The Kōmatis have long been said to have various connections with the Mādigas. “The Kōmatis,” writes Mr. F. R. Hemingway, “usually don’t deny this connection. The Mādigas are, in fact, seemingly under the protection of the Kōmatis, who they turn to for help in times of trouble, receiving loans and other support. Some Kōmatis explain their link to the Mādigas through a story suggesting that either Vishnu Vardhana or his successor Rājarāja Narēndra persecuted the Kōmatis, forcing them to seek refuge with the Mādigas. The Mādigas took them in, hiding them, and claim that the current favor shown to their caste is merely gratitude for the kindness they once received. The Kōmatis themselves do not recognize the title Mid-day Mādigas (used by other castes), but attribute it to a tale about an ancient Kōmati who killed and ate what he thought was a cow-buffalo, which was actually the transformed wife of a great sage, who had taken that form for protection during his meditation. The sage consequently cursed the caste, declaring they would be known as Mid-day Mādigas forever.” It’s possible that the relationship between the Kōmatis and Mādigas was originally similar to that of the Kammālans, Ambattans, and other castes with the Paraiyans, Vettiyans, and other marginalized groups, and that later strange tales were made up to explain their connection. One of these stories claims that Kōmatis are the descendants of a regular Brāhman and a beautiful Mādiga woman. It’s said that their children ran a sweet shop in a busy forest that the Brāhman managed, and when he was away, they would point to the plates with a stick (kōl) to indicate prices without touching the items. This led to the name Kōlmutti (those who point with a stick), which eventually became Kōmutti. Another story suggests that a Mādiga woman, while pregnant with her first child, was gored by a cow and gave birth to it in a cow shed. This is how the name Gō-mutti, or cow-gored, originated. In the past, it was the Kōmatis' responsibility to cover the marriage expenses of the Mādigas in their village, similar to how the Chakkiliyan is treated in the Madura district by the Tottiyan caste when needing assistance for a Tottiyan girl coming of age. Over time, this custom diminished in some places to merely paying for the marriage of two Mādigas, and eventually, this was replaced by inviting the Mādigas to their weddings. In the city of Madras, it seems that in the eighteenth century, it was customary for the Kōmatis to have the māngalyam or sathamānam (marriage badge) blessed by an elderly Mādiga before it was tied around the bride’s neck. Additionally, it appears that at that time, it was customary to give the sacred fire used in weddings for the performance of hōmam to a Mādiga and then receive it back from him.

These, and similar customs, traces of which still exist in some places (e.g., North Arcot), show that the Mādiga has some claim on the Kōmatis. What that claim is is not clear. However, it is reported that, if the Mādiga is not satisfied, he can effectually put a stop to a marriage by coming to the house at which it is to be celebrated, chopping away the plantain trunks which decorate the marriage booth, and carrying them off. Similarly, Kammālans invite Vettiyāns (or Paraiyans) to their marriage, and, if this is not done, there is the same right to cut down the plantain trunks. It would seem that the right thus exercised has reference to the right to the soil on which the booth stands. The cutting away of the plantain shows that their right to stand there is not recognised. The invitation to the Mādiga or Vettiyān would thus refer to the recognition by the Kōmatis and Kammālans to the lordship of the soil held in bygone days by these now depressed castes. Writing in 1869 and 1879, respectively, Sir Walter Elliot and [328]Major J. S. F. Mackenzie of the Mysore Commission refer142 to the presentation of betel and nuts by the Kōmatis to the Mādigas, thereby inviting them to be present at their marriages. Dr. G. Oppert also refers to the same custom.143 Having risen in the social scale, the Kōmatis would naturally wish to give this invitation covertly. Major Mackenzie says that the Kōmatis in Mysore, in order to covertly invite the Mādigas to the wedding, went to the back of their houses at a time when they were not likely to be seen, and whispered into an iron vessel, such as is commonly used for measuring grain, an invitation in the following words:—“In the house of the small ones (i.e., Kōmatis) a marriage is going to take place. The members of the big house (i.e., Mādigas) are to come.” The Mādigas look on such a secret invitation as an insult, and would, if they saw the inviters, handle them roughly. It is noted, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, that “now-a-days the presentation (of betel leaf and nuts) is sometimes veiled by the Kōmati concerned sending his shoes to be mended by the Mādiga a few days before the wedding, deferring payment till the wedding day, and then handing the Mādiga the leaf and nut with the amount of his bill.” According to another account, the Kōmati of set purpose unbinds the toe-ring of his native shoes (chērupu), and summons the Mādiga, whose function it is to make and repair these articles of attire. The Mādiga quietly accepts the job, and is paid more amply than is perhaps necessary in the shape of pān-supāri, flowers, and money. On the acceptance by the Mādiga of the betel and nuts, the Kōmati asks “Chērinda, chērinda”? i.e., has it reached you, and the Mādiga replies “Chērindi, chērindi”, i.e., it has reached. [329]Until he replies thus, the māngalyam cannot, it is said, be tied on the bride’s neck. In the Bellary district, betel leaf and nuts are usually left at night behind the Mādiga’s house, in token of the invitation to the wedding. In the Godāvari district, according to Mr. Hemingway, the Kōmati gives an order for a Mādiga for palmyra leaf baskets before the marriage, and presents him with betel and nut when he brings the baskets. Still another account says that some of the Kōmatis, just before a marriage, leave in the backyard of Mādiga houses a few pice and betel close to the cattle-pen, and that it is whispered that some Kōmatis use chuckler’s (leather-worker’s) tools, made in silver, for worship. It is also reported that chuckler’s work is pretended to be gone through by some Kōmatis, after the completion of the marriage ceremonies, in the backyard of the house at dead of night, in the presence of caste-people only, and by preference under a dānimma chettu (Punica Granatum: pomegranate). This is known as kulāchāram, kuladharmam, or gōtra pūja (custom of the caste, or worship of the gōtras). The figure of a cow is made of flour, and into its stomach they put a mixture of turmeric, lime, and water, called wōkali. This, it has been suggested, is meant to represent blood. After the cow has been worshipped in due form, it is cut up with instruments made of flour, and intended to represent those used by cobblers. To each family is secretly sent that portion of the cow, which, according to custom, they are entitled to receive. Thus, the Kommala-vāru receive the horns, the Gontula the neck, the Karakapāla the hands and temples, the Thonti the hump, the Danta the teeth, the Veligollu the white nails, and so on. Major Mackenzie testified to the performance of this ceremony by the caste in Mysore in 1879, and it is recorded from [330]different parts of the Madras Presidency. The flour, which is thus distributed, is known as nēpāsāni mudda or nēpāsāni unta. The ceremony is still performed in the city of Madras, on the night of the fifth day if the marriage lasts over seven days, or on the night of the third day if it lasts over five days. If the wedding ceremonies are completed in one day, the ceremony is performed even during the day time. The following details are performed. A brass vessel (kalasam) and a cocoanut are set up in the house, and the bride and bridegroom’s parties arrange themselves on each side of it. The vessel is decorated, and the cocoanut is made to represent the face of a woman, with eyes, nose, mouth, etc., and adorned with jewelry, flowers, anilin and turmeric powder marks. A young man of the bridegroom’s party worships the feet of all present. The flour cow is then made, cut up, and distributed. Cocoanuts are broken, and camphor is set on fire, and waved before the vessel. Mr. Muhammad Ibrahim states that families are known by the names of the various organs of the cow in the Godāvari district. There is, he says, a story to the effect that some Kōmatis killed a cow-buffalo, which went about as such by day, but became transformed into a beautiful woman under the miraculous influence of a pious Brāhman. As a redemption for their sin, these Kōmatis were ordered by the Brāhman to take their names after the various parts of the animal, and as, by killing the animal, they proved worse than Mādigas, they were ordered to show respect to these people. In the Kumbum tāluk of the Kurnool district, a flour buffalo is substituted for the cow. In the Markapūr tāluk of the same district, two elephants are made of mud, and the bride and bridegroom sit beside them. Presentations of cloths and jewels are then made to them. The officiating [331]purōhit (priest) worships the elephants, and the bride and bridegroom go round them.

These customs, which still exist in some places (e.g., North Arcot), indicate that the Mādiga has some claim over the Kōmatis. What that claim is not entirely clear. However, it's reported that if a Mādiga is not satisfied, he can effectively stop a marriage by visiting the house where it's set to take place, chopping down the plantain trunks that decorate the marriage booth, and taking them away. Similarly, Kammālans invite Vettiyāns (or Paraiyans) to their weddings, and if they don't do this, there's the same right to cut down the plantain trunks. It seems the right exercised relates to the claim to the land where the booth is situated. By cutting down the plantain, it shows that their right to be there is not acknowledged. The invitation to the Mādiga or Vettiyān thus signifies the Kōmatis' and Kammālans' recognition of the historical lordship of the land held by these now marginalized castes. In writings from 1869 and 1879, respectively, Sir Walter Elliot and Major J. S. F. Mackenzie of the Mysore Commission refer to the presentation of betel and nuts by the Kōmatis to the Mādigas, thereby formally inviting them to their weddings. Dr. G. Oppert also mentions this same custom. As the Kōmatis have risen socially, they'd naturally prefer to extend this invitation discreetly. Major Mackenzie explains that the Kōmatis in Mysore would secretly invite the Mādigas to their weddings by going around to the back of their houses when they were unlikely to be seen, and whispering an invitation into an iron vessel, commonly used for measuring grain, saying: "In the house of the small ones (i.e., Kōmatis) a marriage is going to take place. The members of the big house (i.e., Mādigas) are to come." The Mādigas view such a covert invitation as an insult and would roughly handle anyone who they saw issuing it. The Madras Census Report of 1901 notes that "nowadays the presentation (of betel leaf and nuts) is sometimes disguised by the Kōmati sending his shoes to be repaired by the Mādiga a few days before the wedding, delaying payment until the wedding day, and then giving the Mādiga the leaves and nuts along with the bill." According to another account, the Kōmati intentionally removes the toe-ring from his native shoes (chērupu) to summon the Mādiga, whose role is to make and repair these items of clothing. The Mādiga quietly accepts the task and is compensated more generously than necessary with pān-supāri, flowers, and money. Once the Mādiga accepts the betel and nuts, the Kōmati asks, “Chērinda, chērinda”? (i.e., has it reached you?), to which the Mādiga replies, “Chērindi, chērindi” (i.e., it has reached). Until he responds this way, it's said that the māngalyam cannot be tied around the bride's neck. In the Bellary district, betel leaf and nuts are often left at night behind Mādiga's houses as a sign of the invitation to the wedding. In the Godāvari district, according to Mr. Hemingway, the Kōmati orders a Mādiga to make palmyra leaf baskets before the marriage and presents him with betel and nuts upon delivery of the baskets. Another account mentions that some Kōmatis leave a few coins and betel by Mādiga houses close to the cattle-pen before a wedding, and it’s whispered that some Kōmatis use special leather-working tools made of silver for worship. It’s also reported that some Kōmatis pretend to perform leatherwork in the backyard after the marriage ceremonies have concluded, in the dead of night, in the presence of caste members, preferably under a dānimma chettu (Punica Granatum: pomegranate). This is referred to as kulāchāram, kuladharmam, or gōtra pūja (caste custom or worship of the gōtras). A cow made of flour is prepared, and a mixture of turmeric, lime, and water, called wōkali, is placed inside its stomach. This is thought to represent blood. After respectfully worshipping the cow, it is cut up with flour-made tools meant to symbolize those used by cobblers. Each family secretly receives their portion of the cow according to custom. For instance, the Kommala-vāru get the horns, the Gontula the neck, the Karakapāla the hands and temples, the Thonti the hump, the Danta the teeth, the Veligollu the white nails, and so forth. Major Mackenzie confirmed this ceremony being conducted by the caste in Mysore in 1879, and it has been recorded from different parts of the Madras Presidency. The flour that's distributed is known as nēpāsāni mudda or nēpāsāni unta. This ceremony still takes place in the city of Madras on the night of the fifth day if the wedding lasts more than seven days, or on the third night if it lasts more than five days. If all wedding ceremonies are completed in one day, the custom is even carried out during daylight. Here are the details of what occurs: A brass vessel (kalasam) and a coconut are placed in the house, with the bride and groom's parties arranged on each side. The vessel is decorated, and the coconut is made to symbolize the face of a woman, complete with eyes, nose, mouth, etc., and adorned with jewelry, flowers, and powder marks made of anilin and turmeric. A young man from the bridegroom’s party worships the feet of everyone present. The flour cow is then created, cut up, and handed out. Coconuts are broken, and camphor is ignited and waved before the vessel. Mr. Muhammad Ibrahim states that families are known by the names representing different parts of the cow in the Godāvari district. He narrates a story that some Kōmatis killed a cow-buffalo that roamed around as an animal during the day but transformed into a beautiful woman under the grace of a virtuous Brāhman. As a form of penance for their act, these Kōmatis were directed by the Brāhman to take their names from the various parts of the animal, and since they had proven worse than Mādigas by killing it, they were instructed to show respect towards these individuals. In the Kumbum tāluk of the Kurnool district, a flour buffalo replaces the cow. In the Markapūr tāluk of the same district, two elephants made of mud are shaped, with the bride and groom sitting beside them. Then, the officiating purōhit (priest) worships the elephants, and the bride and groom circle them.

Two further points of connection between the Kōmatis and Mādigas are referred to by Major Mackenzie. “I find,” he writes, “that it is the custom to obtain the fire for burning Kāma, the Indian Cupid, at the end of the Hōli feast from a Mādiga’s house. The Mādigas do not object to giving the fire, in fact they are paid for it.” This appears to be a purely local custom, and no trace of its existence has been found in various parts of the Madras Presidency. The other point refers to the identification of the goddess Mātangi of the Mādigas with the Kōmati goddess Kanyaka Amma. “I cannot,” Major Mackenzie writes, “discover the connection between two such different castes as the Kōmatis and Mādigas, who belong to different divisions. The Kōmatis belong to the 10 pana division, while the Mādigas are members of the 9 pana.144 One reason has been suggested. The caste goddess of the Kōmatis is the virgin Kannika Amma, who destroyed herself rather than marry a prince, because he was of another caste. She is usually represented by a vessel full of water, and, before the marriage ceremonies are commenced, she is brought in state from the temple, and placed in the seat of honour in the house. The Mādigas claim Kannika as their goddess, worship her under the name of Mātangi and object to the Kōmatis taking their goddess.” The Kōmatis stoutly deny that there is any connection between Mātangi and Kanyaka Amma, and it would seem that they are independent goddesses.

Two more points of connection between the Kōmatis and Mādigas are mentioned by Major Mackenzie. “I find,” he writes, “that it's customary to get the fire for burning Kāma, the Indian Cupid, at the end of the Hōli feast from a Mādiga’s house. The Mādigas don’t mind giving the fire; in fact, they are paid for it.” This seems to be a local tradition, and no evidence of it has been found in other parts of the Madras Presidency. The other point refers to the identification of the goddess Mātangi of the Mādigas with the Kōmati goddess Kanyaka Amma. “I cannot,” Major Mackenzie writes, “figure out the connection between two such different castes as the Kōmatis and Mādigas, who belong to different divisions. The Kōmatis belong to the 10 pana division, while the Mādigas are in the 9 pana division.144 One reason has been suggested. The caste goddess of the Kōmatis is the virgin Kannika Amma, who chose to end her life rather than marry a prince from another caste. She is typically represented by a vessel full of water, and before the marriage ceremonies start, she is ceremoniously brought from the temple and placed in the seat of honor in the house. The Mādigas regard Kannika as their goddess, worship her as Mātangi, and resent the Kōmatis claiming her as their own.” The Kōmatis firmly deny any connection between Mātangi and Kanyaka Amma, suggesting that they are separate goddesses.

Marriage is always infant. A Brāhman purōhit officiates. Each purōhit has a number of houses attached [332]to his circle, and his sons usually divide the circle among themselves on partition, like any other property. Polygamy is permitted, but only if the first wife produces no offspring. The taking of a second wife is assented to by the first wife, who, in some cases, believes that, as the result of the second marriage, she herself will beget children. Two forms of marriage ceremonial are recognised, one called purānōktha, according to long established custom, and the other called vēdōktha, which follows the Vēdic ritual of Brāhmans. In Madras, on the first day of a marriage, the contracting couple have an oil bath, and the bridegroom goes through the upanayana (sacred thread investiture) ceremony. He then pretends to go off to Kāsi (Benares), and is met by the bride’s party, who take him to the bride’s house, where the māngalyam is tied by the bridegroom before the hōmam (sacrificial fire). On the second day, hōmam is continued, and a caste dinner is given. On the third day, the gōtra pūja is performed. On the fourth day, hōmam is repeated, and, on the following day, the pair are seated on a swing, and rocked to and fro. Presents, called katnam, are made to the bridegroom, but no vōli (bride-price) is paid. In the mofussil,145 where the purānōktha form of ceremonial is more common, ancestors are invoked on the first day. On the second day, the ashtavarga is observed, and the bride and bridegroom worship eight of the principal gods of the Hindu Pantheon. On this day, the pandal (marriage booth) is erected. On the third day, the māngalyam is tied, sometimes by the officiating Brāhman purōhit, and sometimes by the bridegroom. On the fourth day, the Brāhmans of the place are honoured, and, on the following [333]day, in most places, a festival is held in honour of the goddess Kanyaka Paramēswari. The bride and bridegroom’s mothers go to a tank (pond) or river with copper vessels, and bring back water at the head of a procession. The vessels are placed in a special pandal, and worshipped with flowers, anilin and turmeric powders. Finally, cocoanuts are broken before them. On the next day, or on the same day if the marriage ceremonies conclude thereon, the festival in honour of the Bālanagaram boys, or those who helped the Kōmatis of Penugonda in their trouble with Vishnu Vardhana, is held. Five boys and girls are bathed, decked with jewelry, and taken in procession to the local temple, whence they are conducted to the bride’s house, where they are fed. On the following day, the ceremony called thotlu pūja is performed. A doll is placed in a cradle connected with two poles, and rocked to and fro. The bridegroom gives the doll into the hands of the bride, saying that he has to go on a commercial trip. The bride hands it back to him, with the remark that she has to attend to her kitchen work. On the following day, the bridal couple are taken in procession, and, in the Bellary district, a further day is devoted to the surgi ceremony. The bride and bridegroom bathe together, go to the local temple, and return. Then five girls bathe, the five posts of the marriage pandal are worshipped, and the kankanams (wrist-threads) are removed from the wrists of the newly-married couple.

Marriage is always new. A Brahmin priest officiates. Each priest has several households connected to him, and his sons usually divide these households among themselves during a partition, just like any other property. Polygamy is allowed, but only if the first wife does not have children. The first wife agrees to a second marriage, sometimes believing that she will conceive children as a result. There are two types of marriage ceremonies: one called purānōktha, based on long-standing customs, and the other called vēdōktha, which follows the Vedic rituals of Brahmins. In Madras, on the first day of the wedding, the couple takes an oil bath, and the groom undergoes the upanayana (sacred thread ceremony). He then pretends to leave for Kāsi (Benares), and the bride’s family meets him and takes him to the bride’s home, where the groom ties the māngalyam before the hōmam (sacrificial fire). On the second day, the hōmam continues, and a caste dinner is served. On the third day, the gōtra pūja is performed. On the fourth day, the hōmam is repeated, and the next day, the couple is seated on a swing and gently rocked back and forth. Gifts, known as katnam, are given to the groom, but no vōli (bride-price) is paid. In the countryside, where the purānōktha ceremony is more common, ancestors are invoked on the first day. On the second day, the ashtavarga is observed, where the bride and groom worship eight of the main gods in the Hindu Pantheon. The pandal (wedding booth) is set up that day. On the third day, the māngalyam is tied, sometimes by the officiating Brahmin priest or sometimes by the groom. On the fourth day, the local Brahmins are honored, and the next day, a festival is held in honor of the goddess Kanyaka Paramēswari. The mothers of the bride and groom go to a pond or river with copper vessels and return with water as part of a procession. The vessels are placed in a special pandal and worshiped with flowers, anilin, and turmeric powder. Finally, coconuts are broken before them. On the next day, or on the same day if the marriage ceremonies finish then, a festival honoring the Bālanagaram boys, or those who aided the Kōmatis of Penugonda during their troubles with Vishnu Vardhana, is celebrated. Five boys and girls are bathed, adorned with jewelry, and taken in procession to the local temple, then to the bride’s house for a meal. On the following day, the thotlu pūja ceremony is performed. A doll is placed in a cradle with two poles and rocked back and forth. The groom gives the doll to the bride, saying he has to go on a business trip. She returns it to him, saying she needs to attend to her kitchen work. The next day, the couple is taken in procession, and in the Bellary district, an additional day is dedicated to the surgi ceremony. The bride and groom bathe together, visit the local temple, and return. Then, five girls bathe, the five posts of the wedding pandal are worshipped, and the kankanams (wrist threads) are removed from the wrists of the newly married couple.

Kalinga Kōmatis, who live in the northern part of Ganjam, and have forgotten their mother-tongue, have practically adopted the Oriya customs, as they have to depend mainly on Oriya Brāhmans. At their marriages, however, they use the Telugu bottu or sathamānam. [334]

Kalinga Kōmatis, who live in the northern part of Ganjam, have forgotten their native language and have mostly adopted Oriya customs, as they primarily rely on Oriya Brāhmans. However, at their weddings, they still use the Telugu bottu or sathamānam. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Widow remarriage is not permitted among any sections of the caste, which is very strict in the observance of this rule. Except among the Saivites, a widow is not compelled to have her head shaved, or give up wearing jewelry, or the use of betel. In the south of the Madras Presidency, if a little girl becomes a widow, her māngalyam is not removed, and her head is not shaved till she reaches maturity. Vaishnava widows always retain their hair.

Widow remarriage is not allowed in any part of the caste, and they strictly adhere to this rule. Except for the Saivites, a widow isn't required to shave her head, stop wearing jewelry, or give up betel. In the southern part of the Madras Presidency, if a young girl becomes a widow, her māngalyam isn’t taken off, and her head isn’t shaved until she is mature. Vaishnava widows always keep their hair.

Concerning a form of marriage between the living and the dead, performed by members of this caste if a man and woman have been living together, and the man dies, Mr. Hutchinson writes as follows.146 “The sad intelligence of her man’s death is communicated to her neighbours, a guru or priest is summoned, and the ceremony takes place. According to a writer who once witnessed such a proceeding, the dead body of the man was placed against the outer wall of the verandah of the house in a sitting posture, attired like a bridegroom, and the face and hands besmeared with turmeric. The woman was clothed like a bride, and adorned with the usual tinsel ornament over the face, which, as well as the arms, was daubed over with yellow. She sat opposite the dead body, and spoke to it in light unmeaning words, and then chewed bits of dry cocoanuts, and squirted them on the face of the dead man. This continued for hours, and not till near sunset was the ceremony brought to a close. Then the head of the corpse was bathed, and covered with a cloth of silk, the face rubbed over with some red powder, and betel leaves placed in the mouth. Now she might consider herself married, and the funeral procession started.” This refers to [335]the Vīra Saiva or Lingāyat Kōmatis of the Northern Circars.

Concerning a type of marriage between the living and the dead, performed by members of this group if a man and woman have been living together, and the man dies, Mr. Hutchinson writes as follows.146 “The sad news of her partner’s death is shared with her neighbors, a guru or priest is called, and the ceremony begins. According to a writer who once witnessed this event, the man's dead body was placed against the outer wall of the porch in a sitting position, dressed like a groom, with his face and hands covered in turmeric. The woman was dressed like a bride and decorated with the typical shiny ornament over her face, which, along with her arms, was also smeared with yellow. She sat facing the dead body, spoke to it in light, meaningless words, chewed on bits of dry coconut, and squirted them onto the dead man’s face. This continued for hours, and not until near sunset did the ceremony come to an end. Then the corpse’s head was washed, covered with a silk cloth, the face dusted with red powder, and betel leaves placed in the mouth. At this point, she could consider herself married, and the funeral procession began.” This refers to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the Vīra Saiva or Lingāyat Kōmatis of the Northern Circars.

In the Northern Circars, and part of the Ceded Districts, the Vēdōktha form of marriage now prevails, and its usage is spreading into the southern districts of Mysore. Further, the Kōmatis perform most of their ceremonies in the same form. This, it is contended, is a latter day development by some of the more conservative members of the caste, but it is stated by those who follow it that it is allowed to them by the Hindu sāstras (law books), as they are Vaisyas. During recent years, the latter view has obtained a great impetus through the writings and influence of several of the more prominent members of the caste, between whom and their opponents a war of pamphlets has taken place. It is not possible here to go into details of the dispute, but the main point seems to be as follows. On the one hand, it is denied that there are any true Vaisyas in the Kaliyuga (iron age). And so, though the Kōmatis are accorded the status of Vaisyas in recognition of their being traders, yet they cannot follow the Vēdic form of ceremonial, which is the exclusive right of Brāhmans; and, even if they ever followed it, they forfeited it after the break-up of the caste on the death of Kanyakamma. On the other hand, it is stated that the Kōmatis are Dwijas (twice born), and that they are consequently entitled to follow the Vēdic ritual, and that those who forfeited the Vēdic rights are those who did not follow Kanyakamma to the fire-pits, and do not therefore belong to the 102 gōtras. The dispute is an old standing one, and nearly a century ago was taken for adjudication as far as the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. The question whether the Kōmatis are entitled to perform their subah and asubah (auspicious, like marriage, and inauspicious, [336]like death) ceremonies according to the Vēdic form, was raised by the Brāhmans of Masulipatam in 1817, and adjudicated upon.147 Disputes had occurred between the Brāhmans and Kōmatis for a long time, and disturbances constantly took place. The Magistrate of Masulipatam prohibited the Kōmatis from performing one of the ceremonies, until they had established their right to do so in a Civil Court. The appellants thereon sued the defendants in damages for impediments made against their attending to the rites prescribed by the Vēdas, and prayed for permission to perform them in conformity with the Vēdas. The defendants denied the right of the Kōmatis to perform, and the fact of their ever having performed the ceremonies appointed by the Vēdas. They admitted the intervention of the Magistrate, and stated that “upwards of two thousand years ago, the Kōmatis adopted the customs of the Soodra caste, and some of them became Byri Kōmatis, and Bookha caste people, etc. The rest of them, amounting to a hundred and two gōtras, fabricated false gōtrams for themselves, and called themselves Nagaram Kōmatis. They fabricated a book called Canniaca Purānam, named the Bashcara Puntulu Varu their priest, conformed to that book, performed the sign of the upanayana ceremony in a loose manner, and in the language of the Purānas; at the time of marriage, made marriage ceremony in seven days contrary to the custom of all castes whatever, erected prōlu posts, made lumps of dough with flour, and got the same divided among them according to their spurious gōtrams, at midnight fetched the pot of water called arivany, and observed the ceremonies for ten days on the occurrence of a birth, and fifteen days on [337]the occurrence of a death. In this manner, the forefathers of the plaintiffs, the other merchants, and the plaintiffs themselves, had got all ceremonies conducted for upwards of two thousand years past.” They cited instances, in which the plaintiffs, or some of them, had failed in previous attempts to sustain the right now claimed, and objected to the form of the plaint as not sufficiently setting forth the particulars and nature of the obstruction for which the plaintiffs claimed compensation. The plaintiffs, in their reply, did not negative or rebut the specific statements of the defendants, but insisted generally on their right to the performance of the ceremonies in question. The point at issue being not clear from the pleadings, the parties were questioned in open Court as to the precise object of the action, and the ground on which it was maintained. The plaintiffs stated that their object was the establishment of their right to have the whole of the subha and asubha ceremonies performed in their houses by Brāhmans in the language of the Vēdas, and that they claimed this right on the ground of the Sāstras. On this, the Zilla Judge framed a hypothetical statement of facts and law based on the defendant’s answer for the opinion of the Pandit of the Court, and, upon his opinion, declared the plaintiffs entitled to have the ceremonies performed for them by Brāhmans. Upon appeal, the Provincial Court for the northern division remitted the suit to the Zilla Court to take evidence, and, upon such opinions of the Pandits which the Provincial Court took upon the same statement as the Zilla, they affirmed the decree, but without costs. The Pandits consulted by them were those of the Provincial Courts of the northern, centre, southern and western divisions. They all agreed that “the Brāhmans ought not to perform the ceremonies in the language of [338]the Vādas for the Vaisyas.” Three of them further added that, in their opinion, the Judges ought to pass a decision, awarding that the Kōmatis are to continue to perform religious rites according to the rules laid down in the book called Purānam (i.e., in the Purānōktha form), as are at present observed by the corrupt or degenerate Vaisyas or Kōmatis and others. On appeal, the Sudder Dewāni Adawlut reversed the decisions of the lower Courts, “having maturely weighed the evidence produced, and considered the unbiassed and concurring opinions of the four law officers of the Provincial Courts.” On further appeal to the Privy Council, Lord Brougham, in delivering judgment, observed that “the plaintiffs, not having, in their opinion, alleged any case of injury done to them by the defendants upon which they were entitled to go into evidence, and not having therefore established any case for damages in their suit against the defendants, no question remained but of a mere declaration of a right to perform certain religious ceremonies; that, if the Courts had jurisdiction to proceed to the determination of that question in this suit (upon which their Lordships guard themselves in their judgment), the plaintiffs have not produced sufficient evidence to establish such a right; that, under these circumstances, all the decrees therefore ought to be reversed, and the plaint dismissed (the reversal of the Sudder Court amounts in fact to a dismissal of the plaint); but it is not, as it ought to be, a dismissal without costs; and that this decision should be without prejudice to the existence or non-existence of the right claimed by the appellants, in any other suit, in which such a question may be properly raised.”

In the Northern Circars and part of the Ceded Districts, the Vēdōktha form of marriage is now common, and its usage is spreading into the southern districts of Mysore. Furthermore, the Kōmatis carry out most of their ceremonies in the same way. Some argue that this is a recent development among certain conservative members of the caste, but those who practice it claim that it is permitted by the Hindu sāstras (law books), as they are Vaisyas. In recent years, this perspective has gained considerable momentum due to the writings and influence of several prominent members of the caste, resulting in a pamphlet war between them and their opponents. Going into the details of this dispute is beyond the scope here, but the main points are as follows. On one side, it’s argued that there are no true Vaisyas in the Kaliyuga (iron age). Thus, while the Kōmatis are recognized as Vaisyas because they are traders, they cannot adopt the Vēdic ceremonial practices, which are solely the privilege of Brāhmans; moreover, even if they once practiced it, they lost that right after the disintegration of the caste with the death of Kanyakamma. On the other hand, some assert that the Kōmatis are Dwijas (twice born) and therefore have the right to follow Vēdic rituals. They argue that only those who did not follow Kanyakamma to the fire-pits forfeited their Vēdic rights, and thus don't belong to the 102 gōtras. This dispute is long-standing and was brought to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council nearly a century ago. The question of whether the Kōmatis can perform their subah and asubah (auspicious, like marriage, and inauspicious, like death) ceremonies according to the Vēdic form was raised by the Brāhmans of Masulipatam in 1817 and was adjudicated upon. Conflicts had occurred between the Brāhmans and Kōmatis for a long time, leading to continuous disturbances. The Magistrate of Masulipatam prohibited the Kōmatis from conducting one of the ceremonies until they proved their right to do so in a Civil Court. The appellants then sued the defendants for damages due to impediments made against their observance of the rites prescribed by the Vēdas, seeking permission to perform them according to the Vēdas. The defendants denied the right of the Kōmatis to perform these ceremonies, disputing their past performance of Vēdic rituals. They acknowledged the Magistrate's intervention and claimed that “over two thousand years ago, the Kōmatis adopted the customs of the Soodra caste, with some becoming Byri Kōmatis and people of the Bookha caste, etc. The remaining hundred and two gōtras fabricated false gōtrams for themselves, calling themselves Nagaram Kōmatis. They created a book named Canniaca Purānam, named the Bashcara Puntulu Varu as their priest, adhered to that book, performed the upanayana ceremony loosely, and used the language of the Purānas; during marriages, they conducted ceremonies over seven days, contrary to all other castes' customs, erected prōlu posts, made lumps of dough with flour, divided them according to their spurious gōtrams at midnight, fetched a pot of water called arivany, and observed rituals for ten days following a birth and fifteen days after a death. This is how the plaintiffs’ forefathers, along with other merchants, have conducted all ceremonies for over two thousand years.” They referenced instances where the plaintiffs, or some of them, failed to uphold the right they currently claim and objected that the plaint did not adequately outline the particulars and nature of the obstruction for which the plaintiffs sought compensation. The plaintiffs, in their reply, did not refute the defendants' specific claims but asserted their general right to perform the contested ceremonies. The point at issue was unclear from the pleadings, prompting open Court questioning about the precise aim of the action and its underlying rationale. The plaintiffs stated that their goal was to establish their right to have all subha and asubha ceremonies performed in their homes by Brāhmans using the Vēdic language and that they claimed this right based on the Sāstras. In response, the Zilla Judge created a hypothetical statement of facts and law based on the defendant’s answer for the Pandit of the Court's opinion, which led to the declaration that the plaintiffs had the right to have ceremonies performed by Brāhmans. Upon appeal, the Provincial Court for the northern division sent the case back to the Zilla Court to gather evidence and subsequently confirmed the decree based on the opinions of the Pandits from the Zilla and Provincial Courts of the northern, central, southern, and western divisions. They all agreed that “the Brāhmans should not perform the ceremonies in the language of the Vādas for the Vaisyas.” Three of them additionally stated that, in their view, the Judges should decide that the Kōmatis are to continue performing religious rites as prescribed in the Purānam book (specifically, in the Purānōktha form) as currently practiced by degenerate Vaisyas, Kōmatis, and others. On appeal, the Sudder Dewāni Adawlut overturned the lower Courts' decisions after thoroughly assessing the presented evidence and considering the unbiased and unified opinions of the four law officers of the Provincial Courts. A further appeal to the Privy Council saw Lord Brougham, while delivering judgment, note that “the plaintiffs, having not alleged any case of injury done to them by the defendants entitling them to evidence, did not establish any case for damages against the defendants; thus, the only matter at hand involved merely declaring a right to perform certain religious ceremonies; and if the Courts had the jurisdiction to determine that question in this case (on which their Lordships guard themselves in their judgment), the plaintiffs failed to provide enough evidence to prove such a right; therefore, all decrees should be reversed, and the plaint dismissed (the reversal by the Sudder Court effectively amounts to a dismissal of the plaint); but this should not be, as it should be, a dismissal without costs; and this decision should not affect the existence or non-existence of the right claimed by the appellants, in any other suit where such a question can be appropriately raised.”

The Kōmatis wear the sacred thread, and utter the Gāyatri and other sacred mantras. A number of them, [339]at Adōni in the Bellary district, refused to be measured by me in the afternoon, as they would not have time to bathe, and remove the pollution by evening. In Telugu dictionaries, the Kōmatis are given the alternative names of Mūdava Kolamuvāru (those of the third caste), Vaisyalu, and Nallanayya Todabiddalu (those who were begotten from the thighs of Vishnu). As already stated, there are among the Kōmatis ordinary Saivites, who daub themselves with ashes; Lingāyats or Vīra Saivas, who wear the linga in a silver casket; Rāmānuja Vaishnavites; Chaitanya Vaishnavas, who are confined to the Kalinga section; and Mādhvas, who put on the sect marks of Mādhva Brāhmans. The Traivarnikas are a special class among the Vaishnavas. They imitate the Vaishnava Brāhmans more closely than the rest. They, and their females, tie their cloths like Brāhmans, and the men shave moustaches. Unlike the Saivites and Lingāyats, they eat flesh and fish, and drink spirituous liquors. They will eat in the houses of Sātānis, whereas other Kōmatis do not eat in any but Brāhman houses. But it may be observed that Velamas, Balijas, Kammālans, Ambattans, Vannāns, and many other castes, will take neither water nor food from Kōmatis. This, however, does not prevent them from purchasing the cakes prepared in ghī or oil, which the Kōmatis sell in petty shops.

The Kōmatis wear the sacred thread and recite the Gāyatri and other sacred mantras. Some of them, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]in Adōni in the Bellary district, refused to be measured by me in the afternoon because they wouldn't have time to bathe and cleanse themselves of pollution by evening. In Telugu dictionaries, the Kōmatis have alternative names such as Mūdava Kolamuvāru (those of the third caste), Vaisyalu, and Nallanayya Todabiddalu (those who were born from the thighs of Vishnu). As mentioned earlier, there are among the Kōmatis regular Saivites, who cover themselves with ashes; Lingāyats or Vīra Saivas, who wear the linga in a silver casket; Rāmānuja Vaishnavites; Chaitanya Vaishnavas, specifically from the Kalinga region; and Mādhvas, who display the sect marks of Mādhva Brāhmans. The Traivarnikas are a distinct group among the Vaishnavas. They imitate Vaishnava Brāhmans more closely than others. They, along with their women, tie their clothes like Brāhmans, and the men shave their mustaches. Unlike the Saivites and Lingāyats, they eat meat and fish, and drink alcohol. They will eat in the homes of Sātānis, while other Kōmatis only eat in Brāhman households. However, it's worth noting that Velamas, Balijas, Kammālans, Ambattans, Vannāns, and many other castes will accept neither water nor food from Kōmatis. Nevertheless, this doesn't stop them from buying the cakes made with ghee or oil that the Kōmatis sell in small shops.

Writing early in the nineteenth century, Buchanan refers 148 to a dispute at Gubbi in the Mysore State between the Kōmatis and Banajigas, which arose from the former building a temple to their goddess Kanyakamma. Purnia, the Prime-minister, divided the town by a wall, thus separating the two parties. The Kōmatis [340]claimed that it had been the custom for all parties to live together, and that it would be an infringement of the rules of caste for them to be forced into a separate quarter. The chief of the Kōmatis entered the town in procession, on horseback with an umbrella held over his head. This assumption of rank was regarded by the Banajigas with the utmost indignation. To such a pitch did the quarrel reach that, at the time of Buchanan’s visit, there was a rumour current as to the necessity of killing a jack-ass in the street, which would cause the immediate desolation of the place. “There is,” he writes, “not a Hindu in Karnata, that would remain another night in it, unless by compulsion. Even the adversaries of the party would think themselves bound in honour to fly. This singular custom seems to be one of the resources upon which the natives have fallen to resist arbitrary oppression, and may be had recourse to whenever the Government infringes, or is considered to have infringed upon the custom of any caste. It is of no avail against any other kind of oppression.”

Writing in the early nineteenth century, Buchanan refers 148 to a conflict in Gubbi, Mysore State, between the Kōmatis and Banajigas, which started when the Kōmatis built a temple for their goddess Kanyakamma. Purnia, the Prime Minister, created a separation in the town by building a wall, isolating the two groups. The Kōmatis [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] argued that it had always been customary for everyone to live together, and forcing them into a different area would violate caste rules. The leader of the Kōmatis rode into town in a procession on horseback, holding an umbrella over his head. This display of status infuriated the Banajigas. The dispute escalated to the point that, during Buchanan's visit, there was talk of needing to kill a donkey in the street, which would supposedly lead to the town’s immediate ruin. “There is,” he writes, “not a Hindu in Karnata, who would stay another night there, unless forced to. Even the opponents of the group would feel honor-bound to leave. This unusual practice seems to be one of the strategies the locals use to resist arbitrary oppression and can be invoked whenever the Government infringes upon the customs of any caste. It is ineffective against other forms of oppression.”

A brief reference may be made to the part which the Kōmatis took, in bygone days, in the faction fights known as right and left-hand caste disputes. Some of the South Indian castes, including the Kōmatis, belong to the former, and others to the latter. Those belonging to the left-hand would not let those belonging to the right-hand pass through their streets with their marriage and other processions. The right-hand section was equally jealous of the left. The Kōmatis, who were among the early settlers in the town of Madras in the seventeenth century, were involved in faction disputes on two recorded occasions, once, in 1652 A.D., during the Governorship of Aaron Baker, and later on during that [341]of William Pitt,149 in 1707. When a wedding procession of members of one section passed through the streets of the other section, Pitt summoned twelve of the heads of each section, and locked them up in a room together, until the dispute should be adjusted. An agreement was speedily arrived at, according to which the right-hand settled on the west side of the town, now known as Pedda Naikan Pettah, and the left-hand on the east side, in what is at present called Mutialu Pettah. The Kōmatis accordingly are now mainly found in the western part of the city of Madras.

A quick mention can be made of the role the Kōmatis played in past faction fights known as right and left-hand caste disputes. Some South Indian castes, including the Kōmatis, belong to the right-hand group, while others belong to the left-hand group. Those in the left-hand group wouldn’t let those in the right-hand group pass through their streets during marriage and other celebrations. The right-hand group was just as protective of their territory. The Kōmatis, who were among the early settlers in the town of Madras in the seventeenth century, were involved in faction disputes on two recorded occasions—once in 1652 A.D. during Aaron Baker's governorship, and later during William Pitt's governorship in 1707. When a wedding procession from one section passed through the streets of the other section, Pitt called together twelve leaders from each side and locked them in a room until they resolved the issue. They quickly reached an agreement, where the right-hand group settled on the west side of the town, now called Pedda Naikan Pettah, and the left-hand group on the east side, now known as Mutialu Pettah. As a result, the Kōmatis are primarily found in the western part of the city of Madras.

All over the country, the Kōmatis venerate the deified virgin Kannika Paramēswari, to whom, in most places, they have erected temples. One of these, at Tadpatri in the Anantapūr district, which was in course of construction in 1904, is of more than ordinary interest. It was being built at the expense of the local Kōmatis, who had raised a subscription among themselves for the purpose. The design was original, and even arches entered into its construction. The sculpture, with which it is decorated, is quite excellent in design and finish. Much of it is copied from the two beautiful temples, which have existed at the place since the days of the Vijianagar dynasty. Other notable temples are those at Penukonda, Vizianagram in Vizagapatam, and Berhampur in Ganjam. Fines collected from erring castemen in the Godāvari, Guntūr and Kistna districts, are still sent to the temple at Penukonda. The Kōmatis worship various goddesses, in addition to Kanyaka Paramēswari. Those who live in Vizagapatam “relax their faith in favour of the celebrated Muhammadan saint, who lies buried by the Durga on the top of the hill which overlooks [342]the harbour. Every vessel, passing the harbour inwards and outwards, salutes him by hoisting and lowering its flag three times. He is considered all potent over the elements in the Bay of Bengal, and many a silver dhoney (boat) is presented at his shrine by Hindu ship-owners after a successful voyage. We remember a suit between a Kōmati, the owner of a dhoney, and his Muhammadan captain, who was also the super-cargo, for settlement of accounts. In a storm off the coast of Arakan, the skipper stated that he had vowed a mudupu or purse of rupees to the Durga, and had duly presented it on his return. This sum, among other sets-off, he charged to the owner of the vessel, the plaintiff, whose sole contention was that the vow had never been discharged; the propriety of conciliating the old Fakir in a hurricane he submissively allowed.” Even now, the Kōmatis, though no longer boat-owners, revere the saint, and make vows to him for the success of civil suits, and recovery from all sorts of maladies.

All over the country, the Kōmatis honor the deified virgin Kannika Paramēswari, for whom they have built temples in many places. One of these temples, in Tadpatri in the Anantapūr district, which was under construction in 1904, stands out for its significance. It was being built at the expense of the local Kōmatis, who pooled their resources for the project. The design was unique and even included arches in its construction. The sculpture decorating it is quite impressive in both design and craftsmanship. Much of it is inspired by the two beautiful temples that have been at the location since the Vijayanagara dynasty. Other notable temples can be found in Penukonda, Vizianagram in Vizagapatam, and Berhampur in Ganjam. Fines collected from Kōmatis in the Godāvari, Guntūr, and Kistna districts are still sent to the temple in Penukonda. The Kōmatis worship various goddesses in addition to Kanyaka Paramēswari. Those living in Vizagapatam often show their devotion to the renowned Muhammadan saint, who is buried at the Durga temple atop the hill overlooking the harbour. Every ship passing in and out of the harbour honors him by raising and lowering its flag three times. He is believed to have power over the elements in the Bay of Bengal, and many Hindu shipowners present silver dhoney (boats) at his shrine after successful voyages. We recall a lawsuit involving a Kōmati, the owner of a dhoney, and his Muhammadan captain, who was also the super-cargo, concerning the settlement of accounts. During a storm off the coast of Arakan, the captain mentioned that he had vowed a mudupu or purse of rupees to the Durga and had fulfilled this vow upon his return. This amount, among other offsets, he charged to the vessel’s owner, the plaintiff, who insisted that the vow had never been fulfilled; he reluctantly accepted the need to appease the old Fakir during a hurricane. Even now, the Kōmatis, though no longer boat owners, still revere the saint and make vows to him for success in civil suits and recovery from various ailments.

The Kōmatis employ Brāhmans for the performance of their ceremonial rites, and recognise a Brāhman as their guru. He is commonly called Bhāskarāchārya, after the individual of that name who lived at Penukonda prior to the sixteenth century A.D., and translated the Sanskrit Kanyaka Purāna into a Telugu poem. He made certain regulations for the daily conduct of the Kōmatis, and made the 102 gōtras submit to them. A copy of an inscription on a copper plate, in the possession of one Kotta Appaya, the Archaka or priest of the Nagarēswaraswāmi temple at Penukonda, is given in the Mackenzie manuscripts. It records a grant (of unknown date) to Bhāskarāchārya, the guru of the Vaisyas, by the 102 gōtrams, according to which each family agreed for ever afterwards to give half a rupee for every marriage, [343]and a quarter of a rupee for each year. Such doles are common even at the present day to his successors. These, like the original Bhāskarāchārya, who is considered to be an incarnation of Brahma, are house-holders, and not Sanyāsis (religious ascetics). There are several of them, in different parts of the country, one for example being at Penukonda, and another near Hospet, who makes periodical tours in state, with drums, silver maces, and belted peons, and is received with every mark of respect. He settles disputes, levies fines, and collects subscriptions towards the upkeep of his mutt (religious institution), which is also supported by inām (rent-free) lands.

The Kōmatis hire Brāhmans for their ceremonial rites and consider a Brāhman to be their guru. He is typically known as Bhāskarāchārya, named after the individual who lived in Penukonda before the sixteenth century A.D. and translated the Sanskrit Kanyaka Purāna into a Telugu poem. He established certain rules for the daily lives of the Kōmatis and made the 102 gōtras comply with them. An inscription on a copper plate, held by Kotta Appaya, the Archaka or priest of the Nagarēswaraswāmi temple at Penukonda, is included in the Mackenzie manuscripts. It documents a grant (date unknown) to Bhāskarāchārya, the guru of the Vaisyas, by the 102 gōtrams. According to this grant, each family agreed to contribute half a rupee for every marriage and a quarter of a rupee each year. Such contributions are still common today among his successors. These successors, like the original Bhāskarāchārya, who is regarded as an incarnation of Brahma, are householders and not Sanyāsis (religious ascetics). There are several of them across the country, one being in Penukonda and another near Hospet, who makes occasional state visits accompanied by drums, silver maces, and attendants, and is honored with great respect. He resolves disputes, imposes fines, and gathers donations for the maintenance of his mutt (religious institution), which is also sustained by inām (rent-free) lands.

The Kōmati dead, except children and Lingāyats, are cremated, Lingāyat Kōmatis, like other Lingāyats, bury their dead in a sitting posture. The death ceremonies among the Gavaras closely resemble those of Brāhmans. The period of death pollution is sixteen days, during which sweets are taboo.

The Kōmati dead, except for children and Lingāyats, are cremated. Lingāyat Kōmatis, like other Lingāyats, bury their dead sitting up. The death ceremonies among the Gavaras are similar to those of Brāhmans. The period of death pollution lasts sixteen days, during which sweets are not allowed.

The Kōmatis are best known as merchants, grocers, and money-lenders. In the city of Madras, they are the principal vendors of all sorts of imported articles. The row of shops in the China bazar, between Pachaiyappa’s College and Popham’s Broadway, is almost entirely maintained by them. Many Kōmatis are cloth merchants, and Traivarnikas are almost entirely engaged in the glassware trade. In the Northern Circars, some earn a living as petty dealers in opium and ganja (Indian hemp). In the Ganjam, Vizagapatam and Godāvari districts they are found in the hills, acting as middle-men between the hill tribes and the people of the plains. Most of the Kōmatis are literate, and this helps them in their dealings with their constituents. They are proverbially shrewd, industrious, and thrifty, and are often rich. [344]If a Kōmati fails in business, his compatriots will come to his rescue, and give him a fresh start. Organised charity is well known among them. Each temple of Kanyaka Paramēswari is a centre for charity. In the city of Madras the Kanyaka Paramēswari charities, among other good objects, promote the development of female education. In 1905, the Kōmatis established a Southern India Vysia Association, with the object of encouraging “the intellectual, moral, religious, social, industrial and commercial advancement of the Vysia community.” Among the means employed for so doing, are the helping of deserving students with scholarships for the prosecution of the study of the English and vernacular languages, and organised relief of poor and distressed members of the community by founding orphanages, and so forth. The affairs of the association are managed by an executive committee made up of prominent members of the caste, including merchants, lawyers, and contractors.

The Kōmatis are mainly recognized as merchants, grocery store owners, and money-lenders. In the city of Madras, they are the main sellers of all kinds of imported goods. The line of shops in the China Bazaar, located between Pachaiyappa’s College and Popham’s Broadway, is mostly operated by them. Many Kōmatis are cloth merchants, while Traivarnikas are primarily involved in the glassware business. In the Northern Circars, some make a living as small-time dealers in opium and ganja (Indian hemp). In the Ganjam, Vizagapatam, and Godāvari districts, they are found in the hills, acting as middlemen between the hill tribes and the plains people. Most Kōmatis can read and write, which aids them in their business transactions. They are known to be clever, hard-working, and thrifty, and many are wealthy. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]If a Kōmati fails in business, their fellow community members come to help and give them a second chance. Organized charity is common among them. Each Kanyaka Paramēswari temple serves as a hub for charitable efforts. In Madras, the Kanyaka Paramēswari charities, along with various other initiatives, promote the advancement of female education. In 1905, the Kōmatis formed the Southern India Vysia Association to support “the intellectual, moral, religious, social, industrial, and commercial progress of the Vysia community.” Some of the methods used to achieve this include providing scholarships to deserving students for the study of English and local languages, as well as organizing aid for poor and distressed members of the community by establishing orphanages, among other things. The association is managed by an executive committee comprised of prominent caste members, including merchants, lawyers, and contractors.

Many stories and proverbs have reference to the wealth, ready wit, thrift, and other qualities of the Kōmatis.150 Of these, the following are selected from a large repertoire:—

Many stories and sayings talk about the wealth, sharp minds, frugality, and other traits of the Kōmatis.150 Here are some chosen from a wide collection:—

The Blind Kōmati and Vishnu.

The Blind Kōmati and Vishnu.

A blind Kōmati prayed to Vishnu for the restoration of his eyesight, and at last the god appeared before him, and asked him what he wanted. “Oh! God,” he replied, “I want to see from above the seventh storey of my mansion my great-grandsons playing in the streets, and eating their cakes from golden vessels.”

A blind Kōmati prayed to Vishnu to restore his eyesight, and finally, the god appeared before him and asked what he wanted. “Oh! God,” he replied, “I want to see from the top of the seventh floor of my mansion my great-grandsons playing in the streets and eating their treats from golden bowls.”

Vishnu was so astonished at the request of the blind man, which combined riches, issue, and the restoration [345]of his eyesight in one demand, that he granted all his desires.

Vishnu was so amazed by the blind man's request, which asked for wealth, children, and the restoration [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]of his eyesight all at once, that he granted all his wishes.

The Kōmati and the Thief.

The Kōmati and the Thief.

An old Kōmati observed a thief at dead of night lurking under a pomegranate tree, and cried out to his wife to bring him a low stool. On this he seated himself in front of the thief, and bawled out for hot water, which his wife brought him. Pretending that he was suffering from severe tooth-ache, he gargled the water, and spat it out continuously at the wondering thief. This went on till daybreak, when he called out his neighbours, who captured the thief, and handed him over to the police.

An old man named Kōmati noticed a thief sneaking around under a pomegranate tree in the middle of the night, and he shouted to his wife to get him a small stool. He sat down in front of the thief and yelled for hot water, which his wife brought him. Acting like he had a terrible toothache, he gargled the water and kept spitting it out at the confused thief. This continued until morning, when he called out to his neighbors, who caught the thief and turned him over to the police.

The Kōmati and his Cakes.

The Kōmati and His Cakes.

A Kōmati was on his way to the weekly market, with his plate of cakes to sell there. A couple of thieves met him when he was half way there, and, after giving him a severe thrashing, walked off with the cakes. The discomfited Kōmati, on his way back home with the empty plate, was met by another Kōmati going to market with his cakes. The latter asked how the demand for cakes was at the market, and the former replied “Why go to the market, when half-way people come and demand your cakes?” and passed on. The unsuspecting Kōmati went on, and, like the other, was the recipient of a sound thrashing at the hands of the thieves.

A Kōmati was on his way to the weekly market with a plate of cakes to sell. When he was halfway there, a couple of thieves confronted him, gave him a severe beating, and walked off with the cakes. The beaten Kōmati, on his way back home with the empty plate, ran into another Kōmati going to the market with his cakes. The second Kōmati asked how the demand for cakes was at the market, and the first replied, “Why go to the market when people halfway there come and take your cakes?” and continued on his way. The unsuspecting Kōmati went on, and like the first, he received a solid beating from the thieves.

The Kōmati and the Scorpion.

The Kōmati and the Scorpion.

A number of Kōmatis went one day to a temple. One of them put one of his fingers into the navel of the image of Vināyakan (the elephant god) at the gateway, when a scorpion, which was inside it, stung him. Putting his finger to his nose, the Kōmati remarked “What [346]a fine smell! I have never experienced the like.” This induced another man to put his finger in, and he too was stung, and made similar pretence. All of them were thus stung in succession, and then consoled each other.

A group of Kōmatis went to a temple one day. One of them stuck a finger into the navel of the image of Vināyakan (the elephant god) at the entrance, and a scorpion inside it stung him. He brought his finger to his nose and exclaimed, “What a great smell! I’ve never experienced anything like this.” This encouraged another man to try it, and he also got stung and pretended to enjoy it. One by one, they all got stung and then comforted each other.

The Kōmati and the Milk Tax.

The Kōmati and the Milk Tax.

Once upon a time, a great king levied a tax upon milk, and all his subjects were sorely tried by it. The Kōmatis, who kept cows, found the tax specially inconvenient. They, therefore, bribed the minister, and mustered in strength before the king, to whom they spoke concerning the oppressive nature of the tax. The king asked what their profit from the milk was. “A pie for a pie” said they to a man, and the king, thinking that persons who profit only a pie ought not to be troubled, forthwith passed orders for the abolition of the tax.

Once upon a time, a powerful king imposed a tax on milk, and all his people really struggled because of it. The Kōmatis, who owned cows, found the tax especially burdensome. So, they bribed the minister and gathered their strength before the king, discussing the unfairness of the tax. The king asked how much profit they made from the milk. “A pie for a pie,” they replied, and the king, thinking that people who only made a small profit shouldn’t be bothered, promptly ordered the tax to be abolished.

The Kōmati and the Pāndyan King.

The Komati and the Pandyan King.

Once upon a time, a Pāndyan King had a silver vessel of enormous size made for the use of the palace, and superstitiously believed that its first contents should not be of an ordinary kind. So he ordered his minister to publish abroad that all his subjects were to put into the vessel a chembu-full of milk from each house. The frugal Kōmatis, hearing of this, thought, each to himself, that, as the king had ordered such a large quantity, and others would bring milk, it would suffice if they took a chembu-full of water, as a little water poured into such a large quantity of milk would not change its colour, and it would not be known that they only contributed water. All the Kōmatis accordingly each brought a chembu-full of water, and none of them told the others of the trick he was about to play. But it so happened that the Kōmatis were the first to enter the palace, while they [347]thought that the people of other castes had come and gone. The vessel was placed behind a screen, so that no one might cast the evil eye on it, and the Kōmatis were let in one by one. This they did in all haste, and left with great joy at the success of their trick. Thus there was nothing but water in the vessel. Now it had been arranged that the king was to be the first person to see the contents of his new vessel, and he was thunderstruck to find that it contained only water. He ordered his minister to punish the Kōmatis severely. But the ready-witted Kōmatis came forward, and said “Oh! gracious King, appease thy anger, and kindly listen to what we have to say. We each brought a chembu-full of water, to find out how much the precious vessel will hold. Now that we have taken the measurement, we will forthwith fetch the quantity of milk required.” The king was exceedingly pleased, and sent them away.

Once upon a time, a Pāndyan King had a huge silver vessel made for the palace and believed superstitiously that its first contents couldn't be ordinary. So he told his minister to announce that all his subjects should each contribute a chembu-full of milk. The frugal Kōmatis, hearing this, each thought to themselves that since the king wanted such a large amount, and others would bring milk, it would be fine if they brought a chembu-full of water instead. They reasoned that a little water mixed into all that milk wouldn't change the color, so no one would know they only contributed water. All the Kōmatis brought a chembu-full of water, and none of them mentioned the trick they were planning. It just so happened that the Kōmatis were the first to enter the palace, thinking that the people of other castes had already come and gone. The vessel was placed behind a screen to prevent anyone from casting an evil eye on it, and the Kōmatis were let in one by one. They hurried in and left, feeling joyful about their trick's success. So, there was nothing but water in the vessel. The king was supposed to be the first person to see what was in his new vessel, and he was shocked to discover it was just water. He ordered his minister to punish the Kōmatis severely. But the quick-witted Kōmatis stepped forward and said, “Oh, gracious King, please calm your anger and listen to us. We each brought a chembu-full of water to measure how much the precious vessel can hold. Now that we've measured it, we will go and get the required amount of milk.” The king was very pleased and sent them away.

A story is told to the effect that, when a Kōmati was asked to identify a horse about which a Muhammadan and Hindu were quarrelling, he said that the fore-part looked like the Muhammadan’s, and the hind-part like the Hindu’s. Another story is told of a Kōmati, who when asked by a Judge what he knew about a fight between two men, deposed that he saw them standing in front of each other and speaking in angry tones when a dust-storm arose. He shut his eyes, and the sound of blows reached his ears, but he could not say which of the men beat the other.

A story goes that when a Kōmati was asked to identify a horse about which a Muslim and a Hindu were arguing, he said that the front part looked like the Muslim’s, and the back part like the Hindu’s. Another story is about a Kōmati who, when asked by a judge what he knew about a fight between two men, testified that he saw them standing in front of each other and yelling when a dust storm kicked up. He closed his eyes, and he heard the sounds of punches, but he couldn’t say which man hit the other.

Of proverbs relating to the Kōmatis, the following may be noted:—

Of proverbs related to the Kōmatis, the following can be mentioned:—

A Brāhman will learn if he suffers, and a Kōmati will learn if he is ruined.

A Brahmin will learn if he faces hardship, and a Kshatriya will learn if he is destroyed.

If I ask whether you have salt, you say that you have dhol (a kind of pulse). [348]

If I ask if you have salt, you say you have dhol (a type of pulse). [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Like the burning of a Kōmati’s house, which would mean a heavy loss.

Like the burning of a Kōmati’s house, which would result in a significant loss.

When two Kōmatis whisper on the other side of the lake, you will hear them on this side. This has reference to the harsh voice of the Kōmatis. In native theatricals, the Kōmati is a general favourite with the audience, and he is usually represented as short of stature, obese, and with a raucous voice.

When two Kōmatis whisper across the lake, you'll hear them over here. This refers to the loud voice of the Kōmatis. In local performances, the Kōmati is a general favorite among the audience, and he is typically portrayed as short, overweight, and having a rough voice.

The Kōmati that suits the stake. This has reference to a story in which a Kōmati’s stoutness, brought on by want of exercise and sedentary habits, is said to have shown that he was the proper person to be impaled on a stake. According to the Rev. H. Jensen,151 the proverb refers to an incident that took place in ‘the city of injustice.’ A certain man was to be impaled for a crime, but, at the last moment he pointed out that a certain fat merchant (Kōmati) would be better suited for the instrument of punishment, and so escaped. The proverb is now used of a person who is forced to suffer for the faults of others.

The Kōmati that fits the stake. This refers to a story in which a Kōmati’s bulk, resulting from lack of exercise and a sedentary lifestyle, indicated that he was the ideal candidate to be impaled on a stake. According to Rev. H. Jensen, 151 the proverb comes from an event that happened in ‘the city of injustice.’ A man was meant to be impaled for a crime, but at the last moment, he suggested that a certain overweight merchant (Kōmati) would be a better fit for the punishment, allowing him to escape. The proverb is now used for someone who has to bear the consequences of others' mistakes.

The Kōmatis are satirically named Dhaniyāla jāti, or coriander caste, because, as the coriander seed has to be crushed before it is sown, so the Kōmati is supposed to come to terms only by rough treatment.

The Kōmatis are humorously called the Dhaniyāla jāti, or coriander caste, because just like coriander seeds need to be crushed before they can be planted, the Kōmatis are believed to only comply after facing harsh treatment.

The Kōmatis have the title Setti or Chetti, which is said to be a contracted form of Srēshti, meaning a precious person. In recent times, some of them have assumed the title Ayya.

The Kōmatis have the title Setti or Chetti, which is believed to be a shortened version of Srēshti, meaning a valuable person. Recently, some of them have adopted the title Ayya.

Kombara.—The name, meaning a cap made of the spathe of the areca palm (Areca Catechu) of an exogamous sept of Kelasi. Such caps are worn by various classes in South Canara, e.g., the Holeyas and Koragas. [349]

Kombara.—The name refers to a cap made from the spathe of the areca palm (Areca Catechu) belonging to an exogamous group of the Kelasi community. These caps are worn by different classes in South Canara, such as the Holeyas and Koragas. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Kombu (stick).—An exogamous sept of Kuruba.

Kombu (stick).—An outcast group of Kuruba.

Komma.—Komma (a musical horn) or Kommula has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Kamma and Māla. Kommula is further a professional title for horn-blowers, mainly Māla, Mādiga, and Panisavan, who perform at festivals and funerals.

Komma.—Komma (a musical horn) or Kommula has been identified as an exogamous group of Kamma and Māla. Kommula is also a professional title for horn players, primarily from the Māla, Mādiga, and Panisavan communities, who perform at festivals and funerals.

Kommi.—A gōtra of Gollas, the members of which may not use kommi fuel.

Kommi.—A group of Gollas, whose members are not allowed to use kommi fuel.

Kompala (houses).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga.

Kompala (houses).—An exogamous clan of Dēvānga.

Kōnān.—Kōnān or Kōnār is a title of Idaiyans. Some Gollas call themselves Kōnānulu.

Kōnān.—Kōnān or Kōnār is a title for Idaiyans. Some Gollas refer to themselves as Kōnānulu.

Kōnangi (buffoon).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga.

Kōnangi (jester).—An exogamous clan of Dēvānga.

Konda (mountain).—An exogamous sept of Dēvānga and Mēdara, and a synonym for Konda Dora.

Konda (mountain).—An exogamous group of Dēvānga and Mēdara, and another name for Konda Dora.

Konda Dora.—The Konda Doras are a caste of hill cultivators, found chiefly in Vizagapatam. Concerning them Surgeon-Major W. R. Cornish writes as follows.152 “Contrasting strangely with the energetic, patriarchal, and land-reverencing Parja (Poroja), are the neighbouring indigenous tribes found along the slopes of the eastern ghauts. They are known as Konda Doras, Konda Kāpus, and Ojas. From what has been ascertained of their languages, it seems certain that, divested of the differences which have been engrafted upon them by the fact of the one being influenced by Uriya and the other by Telugu, they are substantially of the same origin as the Parja language and the Khond language. But the people themselves seem to have entirely lost all those rights to the soil, which are now characteristic of the more northern tribes. They are completely at the [350]mercy of late immigrants, so much so that, though they call themselves Konda Doras, they are called by the Bhaktas, their immediate superiors, Konda Kāpus. If they are found living in a village with no Telugu superior, they are known as Doras. If, on the other hand, such a man is at the head of the village affairs, they are to him as adscripti glebæ, and are denominated Kāpus or ryots (cultivators). It is apparent that the comparatively degraded position that this particular soil-folk holds is due to the influence of the Telugu colonists; and the reason why they have been subjected to a greater extent than the cognate tribes further inland is possibly that the Telugu colonization is of more ancient date than the Uriya colonization. It may further be surmised that, from the comparative proximity of the Telugu districts, the occupation of the crests of these ghāts partook rather of the character of a conquest than that of mere settlings in the land. But, however it came about, the result is most disastrous. Some parts of Pāchipenta, Hill Mādugulu, and Kondakambēru, which have been occupied by Telugu-speaking folk, are far inferior in agricultural prosperity to the inland parts, where the Uriyas have assumed the lead in the direction of affairs.”

Konda Dora.—The Konda Doras are a group of hill farmers primarily found in Vizagapatam. Surgeon-Major W. R. Cornish writes the following: 152 “Strikingly different from the energetic, patriarchal, and land-loving Parja (Poroja), are the nearby indigenous tribes found along the slopes of the eastern ghauts. They are known as Konda Doras, Konda Kāpus, and Ojas. From the information gathered about their languages, it's clear that, aside from the differences influenced by Uriya and Telugu, they largely share the same roots as both the Parja language and the Khond language. However, the people themselves seem to have completely lost all the land rights that are typical of the northern tribes. They are entirely at the mercy of recent immigrants, to the point that, even though they call themselves Konda Doras, they are referred to as Konda Kāpus by the Bhaktas, their local leaders. If they live in a village without a Telugu leader, they are called Doras. Conversely, if a Telugu person leads the village, they are considered adscripti glebæ, and are referred to as Kāpus or ryots (farmers). It's clear that the relatively lower status of this particular group of land people is a result of the influence of the Telugu settlers; and the reason they've been more heavily impacted than related tribes further inland may be that the Telugu migration occurred earlier than the Uriya migration. It can also be suggested that, due to the closer proximity of Telugu areas, the settlement of these hilltops felt more like a conquest than just settling down. Regardless of how it happened, the outcome is very unfortunate. Some regions of Pāchipenta, Hill Mādugulu, and Kondakambēru, which have been taken over by Telugu-speaking people, are much less agriculturally prosperous than the inland areas, where the Uriyas have taken charge of local governance.”

In the Census Report, 1891, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes that “these people all speak Telugu, and the majority of them have returned that as their parent-tongue. But a large number returned their caste name in the parent-tongue column. I have since received a vocabulary, which is said to be taken from the dialect of the Konda Doras; and, if this is correct, then the real speech of these people is a dialect of Khond.” One Durgi Pātro, the head of a mutta (division of a Zemindari) informed Mr. G. F. Paddison that Konda Doras and Khonds are [351]identical. In the Census Report, 1901, Mr. W. Francis states that the Konda Doras “seem to be a section of the Khonds, which has largely taken to speaking Telugu, has adopted some of the Telugu customs, and is in the transitional stage between Animism and Hinduism. They call themselves Hindus, and worship the Pāndavas and a goddess called Talupulamma. They drink alcohol, and eat pork, mutton, etc., and will dine with Kāpus.” At times of census, Pāndavakulam (or Pāndava caste) has been returned as a title of the Konda Doras.

In the Census Report of 1891, Mr. H. A. Stuart notes that “these people all speak Telugu, and most of them have identified it as their mother tongue. However, many listed their caste name in the mother tongue section. I have since received a vocabulary claimed to be from the dialect of the Konda Doras; and, if this is accurate, then their true language is a dialect of Khond.” One Durgi Pātro, the leader of a mutta (a division of a Zemindari), informed Mr. G. F. Paddison that Konda Doras and Khonds are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]identical. In the Census Report of 1901, Mr. W. Francis mentions that the Konda Doras “appear to be a part of the Khonds who have largely adopted Telugu as their spoken language, taken on some Telugu customs, and are in a transition between Animism and Hinduism. They refer to themselves as Hindus and worship the Pāndavas and a goddess named Talupulamma. They consume alcohol and eat pork, mutton, etc., and will have meals with Kāpus.” During the census, Pāndavakulam (or Pāndava caste) has been recorded as a title for the Konda Doras.

For the following note I am indebted to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. There are, among the Konda Doras, two well-defined divisions, called Pedda (big) and Chinna (little) Kondalu. Of these, the former have remained in their old semi-independent position, while the latter have come under Telugu domination. The Chinna Kondalu, who have been living in contact with the Bhaktha caste, have adopted the Telugu system of intipērulu, as exogamous septs, whereas the Pedda Kondalu have retained the totem divisions, which occur among other hill castes, e.g., Nāga (cobra), Bhāg (tiger), and Kochchimo (tortoise). Among the Chinna Kondalu, the custom of mēnarikam, according to which a man marries his maternal uncle’s daughter, is observed, and may further marry his own sister’s daughter. The Chinna Kondalu women wear glass bangles and beads, like women of the plains. Men of the Chinna Kondalu section serve as bearers and Government employees, whereas those of the Pedda Kondalu section are engaged in cultivation. The former have personal names corresponding to those of the inhabitants of the plains, e.g., Linganna, Gangamma, while the names of the latter are taken from the day of the week on which [352]they were born, e.g., Bhudra (Wednesday), Sukra (Friday).

For the following note, I want to thank Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao. Among the Konda Doras, there are two distinct groups known as Pedda (big) and Chinna (little) Kondalu. The Pedda have maintained their traditional semi-independent status, while the Chinna have come under Telugu control. The Chinna Kondalu, who have interacted with the Bhaktha caste, have adopted the Telugu system of intipērulu, as exogamous groups, while the Pedda Kondalu have kept their totem divisions, similar to other hill castes, such as Nāga (cobra), Bhāg (tiger), and Kochchimo (tortoise). Among the Chinna Kondalu, the custom of mēnarikam is practiced, where a man marries his maternal uncle’s daughter and can also marry his sister’s daughter. The women of the Chinna Kondalu wear glass bangles and beads, similar to women from the plains. Chinna Kondalu men often work as bearers and Government employees, while Pedda Kondalu men are involved in farming. Men from the Chinna Kondalu group have personal names that are similar to those of the plain inhabitants, like Linganna and Gangamma, while names from the Pedda Kondalu group are based on the day of the week they were born, such as Bhudra (Wednesday) and Sukra (Friday).

Among the Chinna Kondalu, a girl is married before or after puberty. When a marriage is decided on, the girl’s parents receive a present (vōli) of four rupees and a female cloth. On an auspicious day fixed by the Chukkamusti (star-gazer), the bride is conducted to the home of the bridegroom. The contracting couple are bathed in turmeric-water, put on new cloths presented by their fathers-in-law, and wrist-threads are tied on their wrists. On the same day, or the following morning, at a time settled by the Chukkamusti, the bridegroom, under the direction of a caste elder, ties the sathamānam (marriage badge) on the bride’s neck. On the following day, the wrist-threads are removed, and the newly married couple bathe.

Among the Chinna Kondalu, a girl gets married before or after puberty. When a marriage is arranged, the girl’s parents receive a gift (vōli) of four rupees and a piece of fabric for women. On a lucky day chosen by the Chukkamusti (star-gazer), the bride is taken to the groom's home. The couple is bathed in turmeric water, dressed in new clothes provided by their fathers-in-law, and bracelet threads are tied on their wrists. On the same day, or the next morning, at a time set by the Chukkamusti, the groom, under the guidance of a caste elder, ties the sathamānam (marriage badge) around the bride’s neck. The next day, the bracelet threads are taken off, and the newly married couple bathes.

Among the Pedda, as among the Chinna Kondalu, a girl is married before or after puberty. When a man contemplates taking a wife, his parents carry three pots of liquor to the home of the girl whose hand he seeks. The acceptance of these by her father is a sign that the match is agreeable to him, and a jholla tonka (bride-price) of five rupees is paid to him. The future bridegroom’s party has to give three feasts to that of the bride-elect, for each of which a pig is killed. The girl is conducted to the house of the bridegroom, and, if she has reached puberty, remains there. Otherwise she returns home, and joins her husband later on, the occasion being celebrated by a further feast of pork.

Among the Pedda, just like with the Chinna Kondalu, a girl can get married before or after puberty. When a man thinks about marrying, his parents bring three pots of liquor to the girl’s home that he wants to marry. If her father accepts them, it shows that he agrees with the match, and a jholla tonka (bride-price) of five rupees is paid to him. The groom's family must host three feasts for the bride’s family, and a pig is killed for each feast. The girl is taken to the groom's house, and if she has hit puberty, she stays there. If not, she goes back home and will join her husband later, with another celebration featuring pork.

Both sections allow the remarriage of widows. Among the Pedda Kondalu, a younger brother may marry the widow of his elder brother. By both sections divorce is permitted. Among the Chinna Kondalus, a man who marries a divorcée has to pay her first husband twenty-four [353]rupees, of which half is divided among the neighbouring caste villages in certain recognised proportions.

Both sections permit the remarriage of widows. Among the Pedda Kondalu, a younger brother can marry his elder brother's widow. Both sections allow for divorce as well. Among the Chinna Kondalus, a man who marries a divorcée must pay her first husband twenty-four [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]rupees, half of which is distributed among the neighboring caste villages in specific recognized proportions.

The dead are usually burnt by both sections. The Pedda Kondalu kill a pig on the third day, and hold a feast, at which much liquor is disposed of. By the Chinna Kondalu the chinna rōzu (little day) ceremony is observed, as it is by other castes dwelling in the plains.

The dead are typically cremated by both groups. The Pedda Kondalu slaughter a pig on the third day and host a feast, where a lot of alcohol is consumed. The Chinna Kondalu observe the chinna rōzu (little day) ceremony, just like other castes living in the plains.

The Chinna Kondalu bear the titles Anna or Ayya when they are merely cultivators under Bhaktha landlords, and Dora under other circumstances. The Pedda Kondalu usually have no title.

The Chinna Kondalu are called Anna or Ayya when they’re just farmers working for Bhaktha landlords, and they go by Dora in other situations. The Pedda Kondalu typically don’t have a title.

A riot took place, in 1900, at the village of Korravanivalasa in the Vizagapatam district, under the following strange circumstances. “A Konda Dora of this place, named Korra Mallayya, pretended that he was inspired, and gradually gathered round him a camp of four or five thousand people from various parts of the agency. At first his proceedings were harmless enough, but in April he gave out that he was a re-incarnation of one of the five Pāndava brothers; that his infant son was the god Krishna; that he would drive out the English and rule the country himself; and that, to effect this, he would arm his followers with bamboos, which should be turned by magic into guns, and would change the weapons of the authorities into water. Bamboos were cut, and rudely fashioned to resemble guns, and armed with these, the camp was drilled by the Swāmi (god), as Mallayya had come to be called. The assembly next sent word that they were going to loot Pāchipenta, and when, on the 1st May, two constables came to see how matters stood, the fanatics fell upon them, and beat them to death. The local police endeavoured to recover the bodies, but, owing to the threatening [354]attitude of the Swāmi’s followers, had to abandon the attempt. The District Magistrate then went to the place in person, collected reserve police from Vizagapatam, Pārvatipur, and Jeypore, and at dawn on the 7th May rushed the camp to arrest the Swāmi and the other leaders of the movement. The police were resisted by the mob, and obliged to fire. Eleven of the rioters were killed, others wounded or arrested, and the rest dispersed. Sixty of them were tried for rioting, and three, including the Swāmi, for murdering the constables. Of the latter, the Swāmi died in jail, and the other two were hanged. The Swāmi’s infant son, the god Krishna, also died, and all trouble ended at once and completely.”

A riot occurred in 1900 at the village of Korravanivalasa in the Vizagapatam district under bizarre circumstances. “A local Konda Dora named Korra Mallayya claimed he was inspired and gradually attracted a crowd of four or five thousand people from different areas. At first, his activities were relatively harmless, but in April, he announced that he was the reincarnation of one of the five Pāndava brothers; that his infant son was the god Krishna; that he would drive out the British and take control of the country; and that to achieve this, he would equip his followers with bamboos that he would magically transform into guns and turn the authorities' weapons into water. Bamboos were cut and crudely shaped to look like guns, and the camp practiced drills under the direction of the Swāmi (as Mallayya had come to be known). The group then sent word that they planned to loot Pāchipenta, and when two constables arrived on May 1st to assess the situation, the fanatics attacked and killed them. The local police attempted to retrieve the bodies, but due to the threatening attitude of the Swāmi’s followers, they had to abandon the effort. The District Magistrate then went to the village personally, gathered reserve police from Vizagapatam, Pārvatipur, and Jeypore, and at dawn on May 7th, stormed the camp to arrest the Swāmi and the other movement leaders. The police faced resistance from the mob and were forced to open fire. Eleven rioters were killed, others were injured or arrested, and the remainder scattered. Sixty of them were charged with rioting, while three, including the Swāmi, were charged with murdering the constables. Of the three, the Swāmi died in jail, and the other two were hanged. The Swāmi’s infant son, the god Krishna, also died, and all unrest ended abruptly and completely.”

Concerning the Konda Kāpus or Konda Reddis of the Godāvari district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows.153 “The hill Reddis, or Konda Reddis, are a caste of jungle men, having some characteristics in common with the Kōyas. They usually talk a rough Telugu, clipping their words so that it is often difficult to understand them; but it is said that some of them speak Kōya. They are of slighter build than the Kōyas, and their villages are even smaller. They will not eat in the house of a Kōya. They call themselves by various high-sounding titles, such as Pāndava Reddis, Rāja Reddis, and Reddis of the solar race (Sūryavamsa), and do not like the plain name of Konda Reddi. They recognize no endogamous sub-divisions, but have exogamous septs. In character they resemble the Kōyas, but are less simple and stupid, and in former years were much given to crime. They live by shifting cultivation. They do not touch beef, but will eat pork. They profess to be both Saivites and Vaishnavites, and occasionally employ [355]Brāhman priests at their funerals; and yet they worship the Pāndavas, the spirits of the hills (or, as they call them, the sons of Rācha), their ancestors including women who have died before their husbands, and the deity Muthyālamma and her brother Pōturāzu, Sāralamma, and Unamalamma. The last three are found in nearly every village. Other deities are Doddiganga, who is the protector of cattle, and is worshipped when the herds are driven into the forests to graze, and Dēsaganga (or Paraganga), who takes the place of the Maridamma of the plains, and the Muthyālamma of the Kōyas as goddess of cholera and small-pox. The shrine of Sāralamma of Pedakonda, eight miles east of Rēkapalle, is a place of pilgrimage, and so is Bison Hill (Pāpikonda), where an important Reddi festival is held every seven or eight years in honour of the Pāndava brothers, and a huge fat pig, fattened for the occasion, is killed and eaten. The Reddis, like the Kōyas, also observe the harvest festivals. They are very superstitious, believing firmly in sorcery, and calling in wizards in time of illness. Their villages are formed into groups like those of the Kōyas, and the hereditary headmen over these are called by different names, such as Dora, Mūttadar, Varnapedda, and Kulapatradu. Headmen of villages are known as Pettadars. They recognise, though they do not frequently practice, marriage by capture. If a parent wishes to show his dislike for a match, he absents himself when the suitor’s party calls, and sends a bundle of cold rice after them when they have departed. Children are buried. Vaishnavite Reddis burn their adult dead, while the Saivites bury them. Sātānis officiate as priests to the former, and Jangams to the latter. The pyre is kindled by the eldest male of the family, and a feast is held on the fifth day after the [356]funeral. The dead are believed to be born again into their former families.”

Concerning the Konda Kāpus or Konda Reddis of the Godāvari district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows.153 “The hill Reddis, or Konda Reddis, are a group of forest dwellers who share some traits with the Kōyas. They typically speak a rough version of Telugu, often shortening their words, making it difficult to understand them; however, some reportedly speak Kōya. They are generally smaller in stature than the Kōyas, and their villages are even smaller. They won't eat in a Kōya's home. They refer to themselves with various impressive titles, such as Pāndava Reddis, Rāja Reddis, and Reddis of the solar race (Sūryavamsa), and dislike the straightforward name Konda Reddi. They do not recognize endogamous sub-divisions but have exogamous septs. In terms of personality, they are similar to the Kōyas but are less simple and naive, and in the past, they were known for being involved in criminal activities. They sustain themselves through shifting agriculture. They avoid beef but will eat pork. They identify as both Saivites and Vaishnavites and sometimes hire Brāhman priests for their funerals; nevertheless, they also worship the Pāndavas, the spirits of the hills (or as they call them, the sons of Rācha), their ancestors including women who passed away before their husbands, and the deity Muthyālamma along with her brother Pōturāzu, Sāralamma, and Unamalamma. The latter three can be found in nearly every village. Other deities include Doddiganga, the protector of cattle, worshipped when herds are taken into the forests to graze, and Dēsaganga (or Paraganga), who replaces the Maridamma of the plains, along with the Muthyālamma of the Kōyas acting as the goddess of cholera and smallpox. The shrine of Sāralamma in Pedakonda, eight miles east of Rēkapalle, is a pilgrimage site, as is Bison Hill (Pāpikonda), where a significant Reddi festival is held every seven or eight years in honor of the Pāndava brothers, featuring the sacrifice of a large, fattened pig. The Reddis, like the Kōyas, celebrate harvest festivals. They are deeply superstitious, firmly believing in sorcery and often calling wizards during illnesses. Their villages are grouped similarly to those of the Kōyas, and the hereditary leaders are known by various names like Dora, Mūttadar, Varnapedda, and Kulapatradu. Village leaders are called Pettadars. They acknowledge, though rarely practice, marriage by abduction. If a parent wants to express disapproval of a match, they will avoid the suitor’s party when they visit and send back a bundle of cold rice afterwards. Children are buried. Vaishnavite Reddis cremate their adult dead, while Saivites bury theirs. Sātānis serve as priests for the former, and Jangams for the latter. The eldest male in the family lights the pyre, and a feast takes place on the fifth day following the funeral. It is believed that the deceased are reborn into their previous families.”

Kondaikatti.—The name of a sub-division of Vellālas, meaning those who tie the whole mass of hair of the head (kondai) in a knot on the top of the head, as opposed to the kudumi or knot at the back of the partially shaved head.

Kondaikatti.—This is the name of a subgroup of Vellālas, referring to people who tie all their hair (kondai) into a knot on the top of their head, unlike the kudumi or knot at the back of a partially shaved head.

Kondaita.—A sub-division of Doluva.

Kondaita.—A subdivision of Doluva.

Kondaiyamkottai.—A sub-division of Maravan.

Kondaiyamkottai.—A subdivision of Maravan.

Kondalar.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a sub-caste of Vellāla. Kondalam means women’s hair or a kind of dance, and it is possible that the name was returned by people of the Dēva-dāsi caste, who are rising in the social scale, and becoming absorbed in the Vellāla caste. Kondali, of doubtful meaning, has been returned by cultivators and agricultural labourers in North Arcot.

Kondalar.—Listed in the Madras Census Report of 1901 as a sub-caste of Vellāla. Kondalam means women's hair or a type of dance, and it's likely that the name was given by members of the Dēva-dāsi caste, who are improving their social status and integrating into the Vellāla caste. Kondali, with an unclear meaning, has been reported by farmers and agricultural workers in North Arcot.

Kondh.—In the Administration Report of the Ganjam Agency, 1902–3, Mr. C. B. Cotterell writes that Kondh is an exact transliteration from the vernacular, and he knows of no reason, either sentimental or etymological, for keeping such spelling as Khond.

Kondh.—In the Administration Report of the Ganjam Agency, 1902–3, Mr. C. B. Cotterell states that Kondh is a direct transliteration from the local language, and he is not aware of any reasons, either emotional or related to word origins, for maintaining the spelling as Khond.

It is noted, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that “the Khonds inhabit the hill tracts of Ganjam and parts of Vizagapatam, and are found also in Bengal and the Central Provinces. They call themselves Kui, a name identical with the Koi or Koya of the Godāvari agency and the south of the Jeypore Zemindāri. The Telugu people call them Kōtuvāndlu. The origin of the name Khond is doubtful, but Macpherson is, I think, right in deriving it from Telugu Konda, a hill. There is a tribe in Vizagapatam called Konda Dora or Konda Kāpu, and these people are also frequently called Kōtuvāndlu. All these names are derivatives of the root kô or kû, a [357]mountain. The number of sub-divisions returned is 58. The list includes many names of other castes, a fact which must be in part ascribed to the impossibility of distinguishing the true Khonds from persons returned as Kondavāndlu, Kondalu, Kōtuvāndlu, etc., terms which mean simply highlanders, and are applicable to all the hill tribes. For example, 12,164 Pānos have returned their main caste as Khond.”

It is noted in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that “the Khonds live in the hill areas of Ganjam and parts of Vizagapatam, and are also found in Bengal and the Central Provinces. They refer to themselves as Kui, which is the same as the Koi or Koya found in the Godāvari region and southern Jeypore Zemindāri. The Telugu people call them Kōtuvāndlu. The origin of the name Khond is uncertain, but Macpherson is, I believe, correct in tracing it back to the Telugu word Konda, meaning hill. There is a tribe in Vizagapatam called Konda Dora or Konda Kāpu, and these folks are also often referred to as Kōtuvāndlu. All these names come from the root kô or kû, meaning mountain. The total number of sub-divisions listed is 58. This list includes many names from other castes, which is partly due to the difficulty in distinguishing the true Khonds from those recorded as Kondavāndlu, Kondalu, Kōtuvāndlu, etc., terms that just mean highlanders and can apply to all the hill tribes. For example, 12,164 Pānos have listed their primary caste as Khond.”

In a note on the Kui, Kandhī, or Khond language, Mr. G. A. Grierson writes as follows.154 “The Kandhs or Khonds are a Dravidian tribe in the hills of Orissa and neighbouring districts. The tribe is commonly known under the name of Khond. The Oriyās call them Kandhs, and the Telugu people Gōnds or Kōds. The name which they use themselves is Ku, and their language should accordingly be denominated Kui. The word Ku is probably related to Kōī, one of the names by which the Gōnds used to denote themselves. The Kōī dialect of Gōndi is, however, quite different from Kui. The Khonds live in the midst of the Oriyā territory. Their habitat is the hills separating the districts of Ganjam and Vizagapatam in the Madras Presidency, and continuing northwards into the Orissa Tributary States, Bōd, Daspalla, and Nayagarh, and, crossing the Mahānadi, into Angul and the Khondmals. The Khond area further extends into the Central Provinces, covering the northern part Kalahandi, and the south of Patna. Kui is surrounded on all sides by Oriyā. Towards the south it extends towards the confines of the Telugu territory. The language varies locally, all over this area. The differences are not, however, great, though a man from one part of the country often experiences difficulty [358]in understanding the Kui spoken in other parts. There are two principal dialects, one eastern, spoken in Gumsur and the adjoining parts of Bengal, and one western, spoken in Chinna Kimedi. In the north, Kui has come under the influence of the neighbouring Aryan forms of speech, and a specimen forwarded from the Patna State was written in Oriyā with a slight admixture of Chattisgarhī. The number of Kandhs returned at the census of 1891 was 627,388. The language returns, however, give a much smaller figure. The reason is that many Kandhs have abandoned their native speech.”

In a note on the Kui, Kandhī, or Khond language, Mr. G. A. Grierson writes as follows.154 “The Kandhs or Khonds are a Dravidian tribe in the hills of Orissa and surrounding districts. The tribe is mostly known as Khond. The Oriyās refer to them as Kandhs, while the Telugu people call them Gōnds or Kōds. They refer to themselves as Ku, so their language should be called Kui. The word Ku is likely related to Kōī, one of the names the Gōnds used for themselves. However, the Kōī dialect of Gōndi is quite different from Kui. The Khonds reside in the heart of Oriyā territory. They live in the hills that separate the districts of Ganjam and Vizagapatam in the Madras Presidency, extending north into the Orissa Tributary States of Bōd, Daspalla, and Nayagarh, and crossing the Mahānadi into Angul and the Khondmals. The Khond area also extends into the Central Provinces, covering the northern part of Kalahandi and southern Patna. Kui is surrounded entirely by Oriyā. To the south, it reaches the borders of Telugu territory. The language has local variations throughout this region. The differences aren’t significant, though someone from one part of the area can often find it challenging [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] to understand the Kui spoken in other regions. There are two main dialects: one eastern, spoken in Gumsur and the nearby areas of Bengal, and another western, spoken in Chinna Kimedi. In the north, Kui has been influenced by the nearby Aryan languages, and a sample sent from the Patna State was written in Oriyā with a slight mix of Chattisgarhī. According to the 1891 census, there were 627,388 Kandhs recorded. However, the language returns show a much smaller number. This is because many Kandhs have given up their native language.”

It has been noted that “the character of the Khonds varies as much as their language. Where there has been much contact with the plains, it is not as favourable as elsewhere. As a rule, they may be taken to be a bold, and fitfully laborious mountain peasantry of simple, but not undignified manners; upright in their conduct; sincere in their superstitions; proud of their position as landholders; and tenacious of their rights. The Linepada Khonds affect manners like Uriyas, and, among other things, will not eat pork (the flesh of wild pigs excepted). The Khond villages have quite the appearance of Uriya villages, the houses are built with mud walls, a thing unknown with Khonds in other parts of the Māliahs; and there is also much neat garden cultivation, which is rare elsewhere, probably because the produce thereof would be appropriated by the Uriyas. In 1902, the Linepada Muttah (settlement) presented the unusual spectacle of a Khond ruler as Dolabēhara, as well as Moliko, with the Uriya Paiks really at his beck and call. In some places, the most valuable portions of the land have passed into the possession of Sondis and low-country sowcars (money-lenders), who have pandered to the Khonds by advancing them money, the greater [359]portion of which has been expended in drink, the repayment being exacted in land. Except in the Goomsur Māliahs, paddy (rice) cultivation is not extensively carried on by the Khonds; elsewhere it is chiefly in the hands of the Uriyas. The Khonds take little trouble in raising their crops. The result is that, except in the Goomsur Māliahs, where they grow crops to sell in the market for profit, we find a poverty-stricken race, possessing hardly any agricultural stock, and no signs of affluence. In Kimedi, however, they are beginning to follow the example of Goomsur, and doubtless their material prosperity would much increase if some check could be devised to save them from the Uriyas and Sondis, who are steadily acquiring all the wet land, and utilising the Khonds merely as cultivators.”

It has been observed that “the character of the Khonds varies as much as their language. In areas with significant interaction with the plains, their situation is not as favorable as in other regions. Generally, they can be seen as a bold and intermittently hardworking mountain farming community with simple, yet dignified manners; they are upright in their behavior, sincere in their beliefs, proud of their status as landowners, and protective of their rights. The Linepada Khonds have manners similar to the Uriyas, and among other things, they will not eat pork (except for the meat of wild pigs). The Khond villages closely resemble Uriya villages, with houses made of mud walls, which is uncommon for Khonds in other parts of the Māliahs; there is also significant agricultural cultivation, which is rare elsewhere, likely because the Uriyas would take the produce. In 1902, the Linepada Muttah (settlement) showcased the unusual scenario of a Khond ruler as Dolabēhara, along with Moliko, while the Uriya Paiks were essentially at his service. In some areas, the most valuable parts of the land have been taken over by Sondis and lowland sowcars (moneylenders), who have exploited the Khonds by lending them money, most of which has been spent on alcohol, with the repayment demanded in the form of land. Except in the Goomsur Māliahs, the Khonds do not engage much in rice cultivation; elsewhere, it is mainly in the hands of the Uriyas. The Khonds show little effort in growing their crops. Consequently, except in the Goomsur Māliahs, where they grow crops for market profits, we find a destitute community with hardly any farming assets and no signs of wealth. However, in Kimedi, they are starting to follow the Goomsur model, and their economic situation would likely improve significantly if some measures could be put in place to protect them from the Uriyas and Sondis, who are steadily gaining control over all the fertile land and using the Khonds merely as laborers.”

It is noted by Mr. F. Fawcett (1902)155 that “up to within fifteen years ago, the Khônds of the Ganjam hills would not engage in any ordinary labour. They would not, for example, carry even the smallest article of the district officer’s luggage. Elephants were accordingly provided by Government for carriage of tents and all camp luggage. But there has come a change, and, within the last ten years or so, the Khônds have taken to work in the ordinary way. Within the last few years, for the first time, the Khônds have been emigrating to Assam, to work in the tea-gardens. Accurate figures are not available, but the estimate of the best authority gives the number as about 3,000. This emigration is now stopped by edict. Of course, they do not set out, and go of their own accord. They are taken. The strange thing is that they go willingly.” It was enacted, in an order of Government, in 1901,156 that “in [360]exercise of the power conferred by section 3 of the Assam Labour and Emigration Act, 1901, and with the previous sanction of the Governor-General in Council, the Governor in Council is pleased to prohibit absolutely all persons from recruiting, engaging, inducing, or assisting any Native of India to emigrate from the tracts known as the scheduled districts in the district of Ganjam to any labour district of Assam.”

It’s noted by Mr. F. Fawcett (1902)155 that “up until about fifteen years ago, the Khônds of the Ganjam hills wouldn’t engage in any regular labor. They wouldn’t, for example, even carry the smallest item of the district officer’s luggage. Elephants were therefore provided by the Government to transport tents and all camp gear. However, there has been a change, and over the last ten years or so, the Khônds have started to work in a regular manner. Recently, for the first time, the Khônds have been moving to Assam to work in the tea gardens. Accurate figures aren’t available, but the best estimates suggest the number is around 3,000. This emigration is now halted by an order. Of course, they don’t leave on their own accord. They are taken. The strange thing is that they go willingly.” It was enacted, in a Government order, in 1901,156 that “in [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]exercise of the power granted by section 3 of the Assam Labour and Emigration Act, 1901, and with the previous approval of the Governor-General in Council, the Governor in Council is pleased to absolutely prohibit all persons from recruiting, engaging, inducing, or assisting any Native of India to emigrate from the areas known as the scheduled districts in the district of Ganjam to any labor district in Assam.”

In 1908, the Madras Government approved of certain proposals made by the Collector of Ganjam for utilising the services of the Kondhs in the conservancy of the forests in the Pondakhol Agency. The following is a summary of these proposals.157 The chief difficulty to be contended against in Pondakhol is podu cultivation. This cultivation is not only devastating the hill tops and upper slopes, which should be kept well covered to preserve water for the upper reaches of the Rushikulya river, the chief source of irrigation in Ganjam, but is also the origin of most of the forest fires that rage throughout Pondakhol in the hot weather. The District Forest Officer, in discussing matters with the Kondhs, was told by some of the villagers that they would forego poduing if they had cattle to plough the lands in the plains and valleys. The supply of buffaloes would form the compensation for a right relinquished. The next aim should be to give the people work in the non-cultivation season, which is from the middle of January to the middle of July. This luckily coincides with the fire season. There is an abundance of useful work that the Kondhs can be engaged in, e.g., rendering the demarcation lines permanent, making fire lines, constructing roads, and building inspection sheds. The [361]question arises as to how the Khonds should be repaid for their labour. Money is of little use to them in this out-of-the-way part of the country, and, if they got it, they would probably go to Surada to get drunk on it. It would be better to pay them in food-grain and cloths, and for this purpose departmental shops, and a regular system of accounts, such as are in force among the Chenchus in Kurnool, would be necessary.

In 1908, the Madras Government approved certain proposals made by the Collector of Ganjam to utilize the services of the Kondhs in managing the forests in the Pondakhol Agency. Here’s a summary of these proposals. The main challenge in Pondakhol is podu cultivation. This practice is not only destroying the hilltops and upper slopes, which need to be well covered to preserve water for the upper reaches of the Rushikulya river—the primary irrigation source in Ganjam—but it is also the root cause of most of the forest fires that spread throughout Pondakhol during the hot season. The District Forest Officer, while discussing matters with the Kondhs, was informed by some villagers that they would give up podu cultivation if they had cattle to plow the land in the plains and valleys. The provision of buffaloes would serve as compensation for a right given up. The next objective should be to provide the people with work during the non-cultivation season, which runs from mid-January to mid-July. Fortunately, this period aligns with the fire season. There is plenty of useful work for the Kondhs to do, such as making the demarcation lines permanent, creating fire lines, building roads, and constructing inspection sheds. The question arises regarding how to compensate the Khonds for their labor. Money is of little use to them in this remote area, and if they received it, they would likely go to Surada to drink it away. It would be more practical to pay them in food grains and clothing, and for this purpose, departmental shops and a regular accounting system, similar to what is used among the Chenchus in Kurnool, would be necessary.

In the course of a lament over the change which has come over the Kondhs who live in the range of hills near Berhampore, Mr. S. P. Rice writes as follows.158 “Here they live in seclusion and in freedom, but also in the lowest depths of squalor and poverty. Once they loved gay colours. True Khond dresses, both male and female, are full of stripes and patterns, in blue, yellow, and red. Where has gone the love of colour? Instead of the long waistcloth ending in tails of blue and red, the man binds about him a wretched rag that can hardly be called a garment. Once the women took a delight in decking themselves with flowers, and a pride in the silver ornaments that jangled on their naked breasts. Where are now the grasses that adorned them, and the innocence that allowed them to go clothed only to the waist? Gone! withered by the blast of the breath of a ‘superior civilization.’ Gone are the hairpins of sāmbur bone—an inestimable treasure in the eyes of the true hill Khond. Gone are the floral decorations, and the fantastic head-dresses, which are the pride of the mountain tribes. In dull, unromantic squalor our Khond lives, moves, and has his being; arid, ever as he moves, is heard the clanking upon his wrists of the fetters of his debt. Yet for all that he is happy.” The hairpins [362]referred to above are made from sāmbur (deer: Cervus unicolor) bones, and stuck in the hair of male Kondhs. Porcupine quills are sometimes used by them as hairpins.

In a lament about the changes affecting the Kondhs living in the hills near Berhampore, Mr. S. P. Rice writes: “Here they live in isolation and freedom, but also in the harshest conditions of squalor and poverty. They once loved bright colors. True Khond clothing, for both men and women, is vibrant with stripes and patterns in blue, yellow, and red. Where has their love for color gone? Instead of the long waistcloth ending in blue and red tails, men now wear a tattered rag that barely qualifies as clothing. Women used to take joy in adorning themselves with flowers and took pride in the silver jewelry that jingled on their bare chests. Where are the grasses that decorated them, and the innocence that allowed them to dress only to the waist? Gone! Withered by the harshness of a 'superior civilization.' The hairpins made from sāmbur bone—an invaluable treasure to the true hill Khond—are gone. So are the floral decorations and elaborate headpieces that the mountain tribes took pride in. In dull, unromantic squalor, our Khond lives, moves, and exists; and as he goes about, the clinking of the chains from his debts can be heard. Yet despite all this, he is happy.” The hairpins referred to above are made from sāmbur (deer: Cervus unicolor) bones and are worn by male Kondhs. They sometimes use porcupine quills as hairpins.

The following brief, but interesting summary of the Kondhs of Ganjam is given by Mr. C. F. MacCartie.159 “The staple food of the Oriyas is rice, and of the Khond also during the two or three months that succeed the harvest. In February, they gather the crop of hill dholl, which, eked out with dry mohwa (Bassia) fruit, fresh mangoes, and mango stones ground to a sort of flour, pull them through the hot weather, with the help of various yams and edible roots that are plentiful in the jungles. When the south-west monsoon sets in, dry crops, consisting of millets, hill paddy, and Indian corn, are sown, which ripen from August on, and thus afford plentiful means of subsistence. The hot weather is generally called the sukki kalo, or hungry season, as the people are rather pinched just then. Turmeric is perhaps the most valuable crop which the Khonds raise, as it is the most laborious, in consequence of the time it takes to mature—two full years, and the constant field-work thus entailed, first in sheltering the young plants from the sun by artificial shade, and afterwards in digging, boiling, and burnishing the root for market. Tobacco is raised much as in the low country. It is generally grown in back-yards, as elsewhere, and a good deal of care is devoted to its cultivation, as the Khonds are inveterate smokers. Among the products of the jungles may be included myrabolams (Terminalia fruits), tassar silk, cocoons, and dammar, all of which are bartered by the finders to trading Pānos in small quantities, generally [363]for salt. [Honey and wax are said to be collected by the Kondhs and Benias, who are expert climbers of precipitous rocks and lofty trees. The Kondhs recognise four different kinds of bees, known by the following Oriya names:—(a) bhaga mohu, a large-sized bee (Apis dorsata); (b) sattapuri mohu, building its comb in seven layers (Apis indica); (c) binchina mohu, with a comb like a fan; (d) nikiti mohu, a very small bee.]160 Wet paddy is, of course, grown in the valleys and low-lying bottoms, where water is available, and much ingenuity is exercised in the formation of bunds (embankments) to retain the natural supply of moisture. The Khond has a dead eye for a natural level; it is surprising how speedily a seemingly impracticable tract of jungle will be converted into paddy fields by a laborious process of levelling by means of a flat board attached to a pair of buffaloes. The chief feature of the dry cultivation is the destructive practice of kumeri. A strip of forest, primeval, if possible, as being more fertile, is burnt, cultivated, and then deserted for a term of years, which may vary from three to thirty, according to the density or otherwise of the population. The Kutiah Khonds are the chief offenders in respect of kumeri, to which they confine themselves, as they have no ploughs or agricultural cattle. In the rare instances when they grow a little rice, the fields are prepared by manual and pedal labour, as men, women, and children, assemble in the field, and puddle the mud and water until it assumes the desired consistency for the reception of the seed.

The following brief but interesting summary of the Kondhs of Ganjam is provided by Mr. C. F. MacCartie. 159 “The main food for the Oriyas is rice, and the same goes for the Khond during the two or three months after the harvest. In February, they collect the crop of hill dholl, which they supplement with dry mohwa (Bassia) fruit, fresh mangoes, and ground mango stones turned into a kind of flour, helping them get through the hot weather with various yams and edible roots that are abundant in the forests. When the south-west monsoon arrives, they plant dry crops like millets, hill paddy, and Indian corn, which ripen starting in August, thus providing ample food. The hot weather is generally known as the sukki kalo, or hungry season, since people struggle a bit during that time. Turmeric is likely the most valuable crop the Khonds grow because it requires a lot of effort to cultivate—it takes a full two years to mature, along with constant work in the fields, first to protect the young plants from the sun using artificial shade, and later to dig, boil, and polish the roots for the market. Tobacco is cultivated much like it is in the lowlands. It's usually grown in backyards, just like elsewhere, and a great deal of care goes into its cultivation since the Khonds are enthusiastic smokers. Among the products from the forests are myrabolams (Terminalia fruits), tassar silk, cocoons, and dammar, which the finders trade with Pānos for salt in small amounts, generally [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]. Honey and wax are reportedly collected by the Kondhs and Benias, who are skilled at climbing steep rocks and tall trees. The Kondhs recognize four types of bees, known by these Oriya names:—(a) bhaga mohu, a large-sized bee (Apis dorsata); (b) sattapuri mohu, which builds its comb in seven layers (Apis indica); (c) binchina mohu, with a fan-shaped comb; (d) nikiti mohu, a very small bee.] 160 Wet paddy is grown, of course, in the valleys and lower areas where water is accessible, and a lot of creativity is used to build bunds (embankments) to keep the natural moisture supply. The Khond has a keen eye for a natural level; it’s impressive how quickly an apparently impossible area of jungle can be turned into paddy fields through a hard process of leveling using a flat board attached to a pair of buffaloes. The main aspect of dry farming is the damaging practice of kumeri. A strip of forest, ideally one that is untouched, is burned, farmed, and then left for a number of years, which can range from three to thirty, depending on the population density. The Kutiah Khonds are the primary offenders regarding kumeri, as they use this method exclusively since they don’t have plows or farming animals. In the rare cases they grow a bit of rice, they prepare the fields with manual and pedal labor, as men, women, and children gather in the fields to puddle the mud and water until it reaches the right consistency for planting the seeds.

“The hair is worn long during childhood, but tied into a club when maturity is reached, and turbans are seldom worn. A narrow cloth is bound round the loins, [364]with Tartan ends which hang down in front and behind, and a coarse long-cloth is wrapped round the figure when the weather is cold. The war dress of the Khonds is elaborate, and consists of a leather cuirass in front, and a flowing red cloak, which, with an arrangement of ‘bison’ horns and peacock’s feathers, is supposed to strike awe into the beholder’s mind. Khond women wear a red or parti-coloured skirt reaching the knee, the neck and bosom being left bare. Pāno females generally wear an upper cloth. All tattoo their faces. [Tattooing is said to be performed, concurrently with ear-boring, when girls are about ten years old. The tattoo marks are said to represent the implement used in tilling the soil for cultivation, moustache, beard, etc.] Ornaments of beads and brass bangles are worn, but the usage of diverse muttas (settlements) varies very much. In some parts of the Goomsur Māliahs, the use of glass and brass beads is confined to married women, virgins being restricted to decorations composed of plaited grass. Matrons wear ten or twelve ear-rings of different patterns, but, in many parts, young girls substitute pieces of broom, which are worn till the wedding day, and then discarded for brazen rings. Anklets are indispensable in the dance on account of the jingling noise they make, and gold or silver noserings are very commonly worn. [The Kondh of the Ganjam Māliahs has been described as follows.161 “He centres his great love of decoration in his hair. This he tends, combs and oils, with infinite care, and twists into a large loose knot, which is caught with curiously shaped pins of sambur bone, gaily coloured combs and bronze hairpins with curiously ornamented designs, and it is then gracefully pinned over the left eyebrow. This [365]knot he decorates according to his fancy with the blue feathers of the jay (Indian roller, Coracias indica), or the white feathers of the crane and stork, or the feathers of the more gorgeous peacock. Two feathers generally wave in front, while many more float behind. This knot, in the simple economy of his life, also does duty as a pocket or pincushion, for into it he stuffs his knife, his half-smoked cigarette of home-grown tobacco rolled in a sāl (Shorea robusta) leaf, or even his snuff wrapped in another leaf pinned together with a thorn. Round his waist he wraps a white cloth, bordered with a curious design in blue and red, of excellent home manufacture, and over his shoulder is borne his almost inseparable companion, the tanghi, of many curious shapes, consisting of an iron blade with a long wooden handle ornamented with brass wire. In certain places, he very frequently carries a bow and arrows, the former made of bent bamboo, the string of a long strip of bark, and the handle ornamented with stripes of the white quills of the peacock.]

"The hair is worn long during childhood but is tied into a bun when someone comes of age, and turbans are rarely used. A narrow cloth is wrapped around the waist, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]with Tartan ends that hang down in front and back, and a coarse long cloth is wrapped around the body when it's cold. The war dress of the Khonds is elaborate, consisting of a leather breastplate in front and a flowing red cloak, which, along with an arrangement of bison horns and peacock feathers, is meant to instill fear in those who see it. Khond women wear a red or multi-colored skirt that reaches the knee, leaving the neck and chest bare. Pāno women generally wear an upper cloth. All of them tattoo their faces. [Tattooing is said to be done, along with ear-piercing, when girls are around ten years old. The tattoo marks are said to represent the tools used for farming, like a moustache, beard, etc.] They wear ornaments made of beads and brass bangles, but the traditions of different muttas (settlements) vary widely. In some areas of the Goomsur Māliahs, glass and brass beads are reserved for married women, while unmarried girls are limited to decorations made of braided grass. Married women typically wear ten or twelve earrings of various designs, but in many places, young girls wear pieces of broom until their wedding day when they switch to metal rings. Anklets are essential in dance because of the jingling noise they make, and gold or silver nose rings are commonly worn. [The Kondh of the Ganjam Māliahs has been described as follows.161 “He focuses his love for decoration in his hair. He cares for, combs, and oils it meticulously, twisting it into a large loose knot, secured with uniquely shaped pins made of sambur bone, brightly colored combs, and bronze hairpins with decorative designs, which is then gracefully pinned over his left eyebrow. This [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]knot is decorated according to his taste with blue feathers from the jay (Indian roller, Coracias indica), or the white feathers of cranes and storks, or the more vibrant peacock feathers. Generally, two feathers wave in front, while many more float behind. In the simplicity of his life, this knot also serves as a pocket or pincushion, as he stuffs it with his knife, his half-smoked cigarette made from homegrown tobacco wrapped in a sāl (Shorea robusta) leaf, or even his snuff wrapped in another leaf held together with a thorn. Around his waist, he wraps a white cloth bordered with a unique design in blue and red, made with great skill at home, and over his shoulder, he carries his nearly constant companion, the tanghi, of various unique shapes, which consists of an iron blade with a long wooden handle decorated with brass wire. In some areas, he often carries a bow and arrows, the bow made from bent bamboo, the string made from a long strip of bark, and the handle decorated with stripes of the white quills of the peacock.]

“The Khonds are very keen in the pursuit of game, for which the hot weather is the appointed time, and, during this period, a sambar or ‘bison’ has but little chance of escape if once wounded by an arrow, as they stick to the trail like sleuth hounds, and appear insensible to distance or fatigue. The arms they carry are the bow, arrows, and tangi, a species of light battle-axe that inflicts a serious wound. The women are not addicted to drink, but the males are universally attached to liquor, especially during the hot weather, when the sago palm (solopo: Caryota urens) is in full flow. They often run up sheds in the jungle, near especially good trees, and drink for days together. A great many deaths occur at this season by falls from trees when tapping the liquor. [366]Feasts and sacrifices are occasions for drinking to excess, and the latter especially are often scenes of wild intoxication, the liquor used being either mohwa, or a species of strong beer brewed from rice or koeri. Khond women, when once married, appear to keep pretty straight, but there is a good deal of quiet immorality among the young men and girls, especially during the commencement of the hot weather, when parties are made up for fishing or the collection of mohwa fruit and other jungle berries. At the same time, a certain sense of shame exists, as instances are not at all uncommon of double suicide, when a pair of too ardent lovers are blown upon, and their liaison is discovered.

The Khonds are very intense when it comes to hunting, especially during the hot weather, which is the prime time for it. If a sambar or 'bison' gets hit by an arrow, it stands little chance of escaping because the hunters track it like bloodhounds and seem unaffected by distance or exhaustion. They carry a bow, arrows, and a tangi, which is a type of light battle-axe that causes serious injury. The women don’t drink much, but the men are typically fond of alcohol, especially when the sago palm (solopo: Caryota urens) is producing sap. They often set up camps in the jungle near particularly good trees and drink for days on end. Many deaths happen during this time due to falls from trees while collecting the liquor. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Festivals and sacrifices are times for heavy drinking, and the sacrifices in particular can turn into wild binge-drinking events, with the alcohol being either mohwa or a strong beer made from rice or koeri. Khond women tend to behave quite well once they’re married, but there’s quite a bit of discreet immorality among the young men and women, especially at the start of the hot season when groups form for fishing or gathering mohwa fruit and other berries from the jungle. At the same time, there’s a sense of shame, as it’s not uncommon for overly passionate lovers to commit double suicide when their secret relationship is found out.

“The generality of Khond and Pâno houses are constructed of broad sâl logs hewn out with the axe, and thatched with jungle grass, which is impervious to white-ants. In bamboo jungles, bamboo is substituted for sâl. The Khond houses are substantially built but very low, the pitch of the roof never exceeding 8 feet, and the eaves being only about 4 feet from the ground, the object being to ensure resistance to the violent storms that prevail during the monsoons.

The majority of Khond and Pâno houses are made from wide sâl logs shaped with an axe, and they’re covered with jungle grass that termites can’t penetrate. In areas with bamboo forests, bamboo is used instead of sâl. The Khond houses are solidly built but quite low, with roof heights not exceeding 8 feet, and the eaves are only around 4 feet off the ground. This design helps them withstand the fierce storms that occur during the monsoon season.

“Intermarriage between Khonds, Pânos, and Uriyas is not recognised, but cases do occur when a Pâno induces a Khond woman to go off with him. She may live with him as his wife, but no ceremony takes place. If a Pâno commits adultery with a Khond married woman, he has to pay a paronjo, or a fine of a buffalo, to the husband who retains his wife, and in addition a goat, a pig, a basket of paddy, a rupee, and a cavady (shoulder-pole) load of pots. If the adulterer is a Khond, he gets off with payment of the buffalo, which is slaughtered for the entertainment of the village. The husband retains his wife in this case, as also if he finds [367]her pregnant when first she comes to him; this is not an uncommon incident. Divorce of the wife on the husband’s part is thus very rare, if it occurs at all, but cases are not unknown where the wife divorces her husband, and adopts a fresh alliance. When this takes place, her father has to return the whole of the gifts known as gontis, which the bridegroom paid for his wife when the marriage was originally arranged.”

“Intermarriage between Khonds, Pânos, and Uriyas isn't accepted, but there are instances when a Pâno persuades a Khond woman to leave with him. She might live with him as his wife, but no formal ceremony happens. If a Pâno has an affair with a married Khond woman, he must pay a fine, called a paronjo, which is a buffalo, to the husband who keeps his wife. Additionally, he has to give a goat, a pig, a basket of rice, a rupee, and a load of pots on a shoulder-pole. If the person cheating is a Khond, he only needs to pay the buffalo, which is then slaughtered for the village's celebration. In this situation, the husband keeps his wife, especially if he discovers she's pregnant when she first moves in with him; this isn't uncommon. So, it's very rare for a husband to divorce his wife, if it happens at all, but there are cases where a wife divorces her husband and chooses a new partner. In these cases, her father must return all the gifts known as gontis, which the groom provided when the marriage was first arranged.”

In a note on the tribes of the Agency tracts of the Vizagapatam district, Mr. W. Francis writes as follows.162 “Of these, by far the most numerous are the Khonds, who are about 150,000 strong. An overwhelming majority of this number, however, are not the wild barbarous Khonds regarding whom there is such a considerable literature, and who are so prominent in Ganjam, but a series of communities descended from them, which exhibit infinite degrees of difference from their more interesting progenitors, according to the grade of civilisation to which they have attained. The only really primitive Khonds in Vizagapatam are the Dongria (jungle) Khonds of the north of Bissamkatak tāluk, the Dēsya Khonds who live just south-west of them in and around the Nimgiris, and the Kuttiya (hill) Khonds of the hills in the north-east of the Gunupur tāluk. The Kuttiya Khond men wear ample necklets of white beads and prominent brass earrings, but otherwise they dress like any other hill people. Their women, however, have a distinctive garb, putting on a kind of turban on state occasions, wearing nothing above the waist except masses of white bead necklaces which almost cover their breasts, and carrying a series of heavy brass bracelets half way up their forearms. The dhangadi basa system (separate [368]hut for unmarried girls to sleep in) prevails among them in its simplest form, and girls have opportunities for the most intimate acquaintance before they need inform their parents they wish to marry. Special ceremonies are practiced to prevent the spirits of the dead (especially of those killed by tigers) from returning to molest the living. Except totemistic septs, they have apparently no sub-divisions.163 The dress of the civilised Khonds of both sexes is ordinary and uninteresting. These civilised Khonds worship all degrees of deities, from their own tribal Jākara down to the orthodox Hindu gods; follow every gradation of marriage and funeral customs from those of their primitive forefathers to those of the low-country Telugu; speak dialects which range from good Khond through bastard patois down to corrupt Telugu; and allow their totemistic septs to be degraded down to, or divided into, the intipērulu of the plains.”

In a note about the tribes in the Agency areas of the Vizagapatam district, Mr. W. Francis writes as follows.162 “Among these, the Khonds are by far the largest group, numbering around 150,000. However, the vast majority are not the wild, savage Khonds that there's so much literature about, and who are well-known in Ganjam. Instead, they are various communities descended from them, showing countless differences from their more fascinating ancestors, depending on how advanced their level of civilization is. The only truly primitive Khonds in Vizagapatam are the Dongria (jungle) Khonds in northern Bissamkatak tāluk, the Dēsya Khonds who live just southwest of them around the Nimgiris, and the Kuttiya (hill) Khonds in the hills in northeastern Gunupur tāluk. The men of the Kuttiya Khond wear large necklaces of white beads and prominent brass earrings but otherwise dress like other hill people. However, their women have a distinctive outfit, wearing a type of turban on special occasions, with nothing above the waist except for many white bead necklaces that almost cover their breasts, and heavy brass bracelets halfway up their forearms. The dhangadi basa system (separate [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]hut for unmarried girls to sleep in) is practiced among them in its most basic form, allowing girls to become closely acquainted before needing to inform their parents about wanting to marry. They perform special ceremonies to prevent the spirits of the dead (especially those killed by tigers) from coming back to disturb the living. Aside from totemistic septs, they seem to have no other subdivisions.163 The clothing of the civilized Khonds, both men and women, is plain and unremarkable. These civilized Khonds worship a variety of deities, from their own tribal Jākara to the orthodox Hindu gods; they follow a range of marriage and funeral customs that span from those of their primitive ancestors to those of the low-country Telugu; they speak dialects that vary from proper Khond to mixed patois down to corrupted Telugu; and they allow their totemistic septs to be simplified or divided into the intipērulu of the plains.”

There is a tradition that, in olden days, four Kondhs, named Kasi, Mendora, Bolti, and Bolo, with eyes the size of brass pots, teeth like axe-heads, and ears like elephant’s ears, brought their ancestor Mandia Pātro from Jorasingi in Boad, and gave him and his children authority all over the country now comprised in Mahasingi, and in Kurtilli Barakhumma, Bodogodo, Balliguda, and Pussangia, on condition of settling their disputes, and aiding them in their rights. The following legendary account of the origin of the Kondhs is given by Mr. A. B. Jayaram Moodaliar. Once upon a time, the ground was all wet, and there were only two females on the earth, named Karaboodi and Tharthaboodi, each of whom was blessed with a single male child. The names [369]of the children were Kasarodi and Singarodi. All these individuals sprang from the interior of the earth, together with two small plants called nangakoocha and badokoocha, on which they depended for subsistence. One day, when Karaboodi was cutting these plants for cooking, she accidentally cut the little finger of her left hand, and the blood dropped on the ground. Instantly, the wet soft earth on which it fell became dry and hard. The woman then cooked the food, and gave some of it to her son, who asked her why it tasted so much sweeter than usual. She replied that she might have a dream that night, and, if so, would let him know. Next morning, the woman told him that, if he would act on her advice, he would prosper in this world, that he was not to think of her as his mother, and was to cut away the flesh of her back, dig several holes in the ground, bury the flesh, and cover the holes with stones. This her son did, and the rest of the body was cremated. The wet soil dried up and became hard, and all kinds of animals and trees came into existence. A partridge scratched the ground with its feet, and rāgi (millet), maize, dhāl (pea), and rice sprung forth from it. The two brothers argued that, as the sacrifice of their mother brought forth such abundance, they must sacrifice their brothers, sisters, and others, once a year in future.A god, by name Boora Panoo, came, with his wife and children, to Tharthaboodi and the two young men, to whom Boora Panoo’s daughters were married. They begat children, who were divided equally between Boora Panoo the grandfather and their fathers. Tharthaboodi objected to this division on the grounds that Boora Panoo’s son would stand in the relation of Mamoo to the children of Kasarodi and Singarodi; that, if the child was a female, when she got married, she would have to give a rupee to her Mamoo; [370]and that, if it was a male that Boora Panoo’s daughter brought forth, the boy when he grew up would have to give the head of any animal he shot to Mamoo (Boora Panoo’s son). Then Boora Panoo built a house, and Kasarodi and Singarodi built two houses. All lived happily for two years. Then Karaboodi appeared in a dream, and told Kasarodi and Singarodi that, if they offered another human victim, their lands would be very fertile, and their cattle could flourish. In the absence of a suitable being, they sacrificed a monkey. Then Karaboodi appeared once more, and said that she was not pleased with the substitution of the monkey, and that a human being must be sacrificed. The two men, with their eight children, sought for a victim for twelve years. At the end of that time, they found a poor man, who had a son four years old, and found him, his wife and child good food, clothing, and shelter for a year. They then asked permission to sacrifice the son in return for their kindness, and the father gave his assent. The boy was fettered and handcuffed to prevent his running away, and taken good care of. Liquor was prepared from grains, and a bamboo, with a flag hoisted on it, planted in the ground. Next day, a pig was sacrificed near this post, and a feast was held. It was proclaimed that the boy would be tied to a post on the following day, and sacrificed on the third day. On the night previous to the sacrifice, the Janni (priest) took a reed, and poked it into the ground in several places. When it entered to a depth of about eight inches, it was believed that the god and goddess Tadapanoo and Dasapanoo were there. Round this spot, seven pieces of wood were arranged lengthways and crossways, and an egg was placed in the centre of the structure. The Khonds arrived from the various villages, and indulged in drink. The boy was teased, [371]and told that he had been sold to them, that his sorrow would affect his parents only, and that he was to be sacrificed for the prosperity of the people. He was conducted to the spot where the god and goddess had been found, tied with ropes, and held fast by the Khonds. He was made to lie on his stomach on the wooden structure, and held there. Pieces of flesh were removed from his back, arms and legs, and portions thereof buried at the Khond’s place of worship. Portions were also set up near a well of drinking water, and placed around the villages. The remainder of the sacrificed corpse was cremated on a pyre set alight with fire produced by the friction of two pieces of wood. On the following day, a buffalo was sacrificed, and a feast partaken of. Next day, the bamboo post was removed outside the village, and a fowl and eggs were offered to the deity. The following stanza is still recited by the Janni at the buffalo sacrifice, which has been substituted for that of a human victim:—Oh! come, male slave; come, female slave. What do you say? What do you call out for? You have been brought, ensnared by the Haddi. You have been called, ensnared by the Domba. What can I do, even if you are my child? You are sold for a pot of food.

There’s a legend that in ancient times, four Kondhs named Kasi, Mendora, Bolti, and Bolo, who had eyes as big as brass pots, teeth like axe heads, and ears like those of elephants, brought their ancestor Mandia Pātro from Jorasingi in Boad and granted him and his family authority over all the land now known as Mahasingi, as well as in Kurtilli Barakhumma, Bodogodo, Balliguda, and Pussangia. This was on the condition that he would settle their disputes and help them with their rights. Mr. A. B. Jayaram Moodaliar shared the following legendary tale about the origin of the Kondhs. Long ago, the earth was completely wet, and only two women lived on it named Karaboodi and Tharthaboodi, each with one male child. The boys were named Kasarodi and Singarodi. They all emerged from deep within the earth along with two small plants called nangakoocha and badokoocha, which they relied on for food. One day, while Karaboodi was harvesting the plants for cooking, she accidentally cut her left little finger, and her blood fell to the ground. Immediately, the wet earth became dry and hard where the blood hit. The woman then cooked the food and gave some to her son, who asked why it tasted sweeter than usual. She told him that she might have a dream that night and would let him know if she did. The next morning, she advised him to not see her as his mother anymore, to cut away the flesh from her back, dig several holes in the ground, bury the flesh, and cover the holes with stones. Her son followed her instructions, and the rest of her body was cremated. The wet earth dried up completely, giving rise to all kinds of animals and plants. A partridge scratched the ground, and millet, maize, peas, and rice grew from it. The two brothers decided that since their mother’s sacrifice resulted in such abundance, they would continue the tradition and sacrifice their siblings and others every year. A god named Boora Panoo arrived with his wife and children to Tharthaboodi, and the two brothers married Boora Panoo's daughters. They had children, who were divided equally between Boora Panoo the grandfather and their own fathers. Tharthaboodi opposed this division, stating that Boora Panoo’s son would be considered an uncle to Kasarodi and Singarodi’s children; if a daughter were to marry, she would have to give her uncle a rupee; and if a son was born, he would have to give the head of any animal he hunted to his uncle. Then Boora Panoo built a house, and Kasarodi and Singarodi built two houses. They all lived happily for two years. Then Karaboodi appeared in a dream again and told Kasarodi and Singarodi that if they offered another human sacrifice, their land would be very fertile, and their cattle would thrive. Unable to find a suitable victim, they sacrificed a monkey instead. Karaboodi appeared once more, unhappy with the substitution, insisting that a human being had to be sacrificed. For twelve years, the two men and their eight children searched for a victim. Finally, they found a poor man with a four-year-old son and provided him, his wife, and child with food, clothing, and shelter for a year. They then asked for permission to sacrifice the son in return for their kindness, and the father agreed. The boy was secured to prevent him from escaping and taken care of. Liquor was brewed from grains, and a bamboo pole with a flag was planted in the ground. The next day, a pig was sacrificed near the pole, and a feast followed. It was announced that the boy would be tied to the pole the next day and sacrificed on the third day. The night before the sacrifice, the priest took a reed and poked it into the ground in various spots. When it went down about eight inches, it was believed that the god and goddess Tadapanoo and Dasapanoo were present. Around this spot, seven pieces of wood were arranged both lengthwise and crosswise, and an egg was placed in the center. The Khonds came from nearby villages and began to drink. The boy was teased and told that he had been sold to them, that only his parents would grieve for him, and that he was to be sacrificed for the prosperity of the people. He was brought to the area where the god and goddess were said to be, tied with ropes, and held tightly by the Khonds. He was made to lie face down on the wooden structure, where pieces of flesh were cut from his back, arms, and legs, with some buried at the Kondh’s place of worship. Portions were also set up near a drinking well and placed around the villages. The rest of the sacrificed body was cremated on a pyre ignited by friction from two pieces of wood. The next day, a buffalo was sacrificed, and they feasted again. The day after that, the bamboo pole was moved outside the village, and a fowl and eggs were offered to the deity. The following verse is still recited by the priest at the buffalo sacrifice, which has replaced the human sacrifice: — Oh! come, male slave; come, female slave. What do you say? What do you cry out for? You have been brought, ensnared by the Haddi. You have been called, ensnared by the Domba. What can I do, even if you are my child? You are sold for a pot of food.

The ethnological section of the Madras Museum received a few years ago a very interesting relic in the shape of a human (Meriah) sacrifice post from Baligudu in Ganjam. This post, which was fast being reduced to a mere shell by white-ants, is, I believe, the only one now in existence. It was brought by Colonel Pickance, who was Assistant Superintendent of Police, and set up in the ground near the gate of the reserve Police barracks. The veteran members of a party of Kondhs, who were brought to Madras for the purpose of performing before [372]the Prince and Princess of Wales in 1906, became wildly excited when they came across this relic of their former barbarous custom.

The ethnological section of the Madras Museum recently received a fascinating relic: a human (Meriah) sacrifice post from Baligudu in Ganjam. This post, which was quickly being eaten away by termites, is, I believe, the only one still in existence. It was brought in by Colonel Pickance, who was the Assistant Superintendent of Police, and set up in the ground near the gate of the reserve Police barracks. The veteran members of a Kondh group, brought to Madras to perform for the Prince and Princess of Wales in 1906, became incredibly excited when they saw this relic of their old customs.

“The best known case,” Mr. Frazer writes,164 “of human sacrifices systematically offered to ensure good crops is supplied by the Khonds or Kandhs. Our knowledge of them is derived from the accounts written by British officers, who, forty or fifty years ago, were engaged in putting them down. The sacrifices were offered to the earth goddess, Tari Pennu or Bera Pennu, and were believed to ensure good crops, and immunity from all diseases and accidents. In particular, they were considered necessary in the cultivation of turmeric, the Khonds arguing that the turmeric could not have a deep red colour without the shedding of blood. The victim, a Meriah, was acceptable to the goddess only if he had been purchased, or had been born a victim, that is the son of a victim father, or had been devoted as a child by his father or guardian.”

“The most well-known case,” Mr. Frazer writes, 164 “of human sacrifices made to ensure good crops comes from the Khonds or Kandhs. Our understanding of them comes from reports written by British officers who, forty or fifty years ago, were involved in stopping these practices. The sacrifices were made to the earth goddess, Tari Pennu or Bera Pennu, and were thought to guarantee good harvests, as well as protection from diseases and accidents. Specifically, they were deemed essential for the cultivation of turmeric, with the Khonds arguing that turmeric could not develop a deep red color without the shedding of blood. The victim, known as a Meriah, was considered acceptable to the goddess only if he had been purchased, or was born a victim, meaning the son of a victim father, or had been dedicated as a child by his father or guardian.”

In 1837, Mr. Russell, in a report on the districts entrusted to his control, wrote as follows.165 “The ceremonies attending the barbarous rite, and still more the mode of destroying life, vary in different parts of the country. In the Māliahs of Goomsur, the sacrifice is offered annually to Thadha Pennoo (the earth) under the effigy of a bird intended to represent a peacock, with the view of propitiating the deity to grant favourable seasons and crops. The ceremony is performed at the expense of, and in rotation by, certain mootahs (settlements) composing a community, and connected together from local circumstances. Besides these periodical sacrifices, [373]others are made by single mootahs, and even by individuals, to avert any threatening calamity from sickness, murrain, or other cause. Grown men are the most esteemed (as victims), because the most costly. Children are purchased, and reared for years with the family of the person who ultimately devotes them to a cruel death, when circumstances are supposed to demand a sacrifice at his hands. They seem to be treated with kindness, and, if young, are kept under no constraint; but, when old enough to be sensible of the fate which awaits them, they are placed in fetters and guarded. Most of those who were rescued had been sold by their parents or nearest relations, a practice which, from all we could learn, is very common. Persons of riper age are kidnapped by wretches who trade in human flesh. The victim must always be purchased. Criminals, or prisoners captured in war, are not considered fitting subjects. The price is paid indifferently in brass utensils, cattle or corn. The Zanee (or priest), who may be of any caste, officiates at the sacrifice, but he performs the poojah (offering of flowers, incense, etc.) to the idol through the medium of the Toomba, who must be a Khond child under seven years of age. This child is fed and clothed at the public expense, eats with no other person, and is subjected to no act deemed impure. For a month prior to the sacrifice, there is much feasting and intoxication, and dancing round the Meriah, who is adorned with garlands, etc., and, on the day before the performance of the barbarous rite, is stupefied with toddy, and made to sit, or, if necessary, is bound at the bottom of a post bearing the effigy above described. The assembled multitude then dance around to music, and addressing the earth, say: ‘Oh! God, we offer the sacrifice to you. Give us good crops, seasons, and health.’ After which they address [374]the victim, ‘We bought you with a price, and did not seize you. Now we sacrifice you according to custom, and no sin rests with us.’ On the following day, the victim being again intoxicated and anointed with oil, each individual present touches the anointed part, and wipes the oil on his own head. All then proceed in procession around the village and its boundaries, preceded by music, bearing the victim and a pole, to the top of which is attached a tuft of peacock’s feathers. On returning to the post, which is always placed near the village deity called Zakaree Pennoo, and represented by three stones, near which the brass effigy in the shape of a peacock is buried, they kill a hog in sacrifice and, having allowed the blood to flow into a pit prepared for the purpose, the victim, who, if it has been found possible, has been previously made senseless from intoxication, is seized and thrown in, and his face pressed down until he is suffocated in the bloody mire amid the noise of instruments. The Zanee then cuts a piece of flesh from the body, and buries it with ceremony near the effigy and village idol, as an offering to the earth. All the rest afterwards go through the same form, and carry the bloody prize to their villages, where the same rites are performed, part being interred near the village idol, and little bits on the boundaries. The head and face remain untouched, and the bones, when bare, are buried with them in the pit. After this horrid ceremony has been completed, a buffalo calf is brought in front of the post, and, his forefeet having been cut off, is left there till the following day. Women, dressed in male attire and armed as men, then drink, dance and sing round the spot, the calf is killed and eaten, and the Zanee is dismissed with a present of rice and a hog or calf.” [375]

In 1837, Mr. Russell, in a report on the areas under his oversight, wrote as follows.165 “The rituals surrounding this barbaric practice, and especially the method of taking life, differ across various regions of the country. In the Māliahs of Goomsur, a sacrifice is made every year to Thadha Pennoo (the earth) using a statue of a bird meant to represent a peacock, aimed at appeasing the deity for good seasons and harvests. The ceremony is carried out at the cost of, and in rotation by, specific mootahs (settlements) within a community, which are linked by local circumstances. In addition to these regular sacrifices, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]others are performed by individual mootahs and even by people, to prevent impending disasters like illness, pestilence, or other threats. Adult males are preferred as sacrifices because they are more valuable. Children are bought and raised for years by the family of the person who ultimately sacrifices them when the circumstances call for it. They seem to be treated kindly, and if they are young, they aren’t kept under strict control; but once they are old enough to understand their fate, they are put in chains and watched. Most of those rescued had been sold by their parents or closest relatives, a practice that, from all we gathered, is quite common. Older victims are kidnapped by criminals who trade in human trafficking. The victim must always be bought. Criminals or prisoners captured in battle are not seen as appropriate candidates. Payment is made in brass utensils, livestock, or grain. The Zanee (or priest), who can belong to any caste, leads the sacrifice, but he performs the poojah (offering of flowers, incense, etc.) to the idol through a Toomba, who must be a Khond child under seven years old. This child is provided for by the community, eats only with no one else, and is shielded from anything considered impure. For a month leading up to the sacrifice, there is much feasting, drinking, and dancing around the Meriah, who is decorated with garlands, etc., and the day before the brutal ritual, the Meriah is made drunk with toddy and is made to sit, or is tied to the base of a post that holds the statue previously mentioned. The gathered crowd then dances to music, addressing the earth, saying: ‘Oh! God, we offer the sacrifice to you. Grant us good crops, seasons, and health.’ After this, they tell [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the victim, ‘We purchased you and did not capture you. Now we sacrifice you according to our customs, and we bear no guilt.’ The next day, the victim, again intoxicated and anointed with oil, is touched by each individual present, who wipes the oil on their own heads. Then, they proceed in a parade around the village and its borders, led by music, carrying the victim and a pole, to which a tuft of peacock feathers is attached. When they return to the post, which is always located near the village deity called Zakaree Pennoo, represented by three stones, where the brass statue shaped like a peacock is buried, they sacrifice a pig, allowing the blood to flow into a pit prepared for this purpose. The victim, if possible, has been rendered unconscious from intoxication, is captured, and thrown into the pit, his face pushed down until he suffocates in the bloody muck amid the noise of instruments. The Zanee then removes a piece of flesh from the body and buries it ceremonially near the statue and village idol as an offering to the earth. The others follow the same procedure, taking the bloody remains to their villages, where similar rites are conducted, with some being buried near the village idol, and small pieces placed at the boundaries. The head and face are left untouched, and the bones, once clean, are buried in the pit with them. After this gruesome ritual is finished, a buffalo calf is brought in front of the post, and after its forefeet have been cut off, it is left there until the next day. Women, dressed in men's clothing and armed like men, then drink, dance, and sing around the site; the calf is killed and eaten, and the Zanee is rewarded with rice and a pig or calf.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In the same year, Mr. Arbuthnot, Collector of Vizagapatam, reported as follows. “Of the hill tribe Codooloo, there are said to be two distinct classes, the Cotia Codooloo and Jathapoo Codooloo. The former class is that which is in the habit of offering human sacrifices to the god called Jenkery, with a view to secure good crops. This ceremony is generally performed on the Sunday preceding or following the Pongal feast. The victim is seldom carried by force, but procured by purchase, and there is a fixed price for each person, which consists of forty articles such as a bullock, a male buffalo, a cow, a goat, a piece of cloth, a silk cloth, a brass pot, a large plate, a bunch of plantains, etc. The man who is destined for the sacrifice is carried before the god, and a small quantity of rice coloured with saffron (turmeric) is put upon his head. The influence of this is said to prevent his attempting to escape, even though set at liberty. It would appear, however, that, from the moment of his seizure till he is sacrificed, he is kept in a continued state of stupefaction or intoxication. He is allowed to wander about the village, to eat and drink anything he may take a fancy to, and even to have connection with any of the women whom he may meet. On the morning set apart for the sacrifice, he is carried before the idol in a state of intoxication. One of the villagers acts as priest, who cuts a small hole in the stomach of the victim, and with the blood that flows from the wound the idol is smeared. Then the crowds from the neighbouring villages rush forward, and he is literally cut into pieces. Each person who is so fortunate as to procure it carries away a morsel of the flesh, and presents it to the idol of his own village.”

In the same year, Mr. Arbuthnot, Collector of Vizagapatam, reported as follows: “Of the hill tribe Codooloo, there are said to be two distinct groups, the Cotia Codooloo and Jathapoo Codooloo. The first group is known for offering human sacrifices to the god called Jenkery to ensure good harvests. This ritual usually takes place on the Sunday before or after the Pongal feast. The victim is rarely taken by force; instead, they are bought, with a fixed price for each person that consists of forty items such as a bull, a male buffalo, a cow, a goat, a piece of cloth, a silk cloth, a brass pot, a large plate, a bunch of bananas, etc. The man chosen for the sacrifice is brought before the god, and a small amount of saffron-colored rice (made with turmeric) is placed on his head. It is said that this prevents him from trying to escape, even once set free. However, it seems that from the moment of his capture until the sacrifice, he is kept in a constant state of confusion or intoxication. He is allowed to roam the village, eat and drink whatever he likes, and even have relations with any women he encounters. On the morning of the sacrifice, he is taken to the idol in his intoxicated state. One of the villagers acts as a priest, cuts a small hole in the victim's stomach, and with the blood that flows from the wound, the idol is smeared. Then, people from the nearby villages rush forward, and he is literally hacked into pieces. Those who are fortunate enough to get a piece carry it away and offer it to the idol in their own village.”

Concerning a method of sacrifice, which is illustrated by the post preserved in the Madras Museum, Colonel [376]Campbell records166 that “one of the most common ways of offering the sacrifice in Chinna Kimedi is to the effigy of an elephant (hatti mundo or elephant’s head) rudely carved in wood, fixed on the top of a stout post, on which it is made to revolve. After the performance of the usual ceremonies, the intended victim is fastened to the proboscis of the elephant, and, amidst the shouts and yells of the excited multitude of Khonds, is rapidly whirled round, when, at a given signal by the officiating Zanee or priest, the crowd rush in, seize the Meriah, and with their knives cut the flesh off the shrieking wretch as long as life remains. He is then cut down, the skeleton burnt, and the horrid orgies are over. In several villages I counted as many as fourteen effigies of elephants, which had been used in former sacrifices. These I caused to be overthrown by the baggage elephants attached to my camp in the presence of the assembled Khonds, to show them that these venerated objects had no power against the living animal, and to remove all vestiges of their bloody superstition.” In another report, Colonel Campbell describes how the miserable victim is dragged along the fields, surrounded by a crowd of half intoxicated Khonds, who, shouting and screaming, rush upon him, and with their knives cut the flesh piecemeal from the bones, avoiding the head and bowels, till the living skeleton, dying from loss of blood, is relieved from torture, when its remains are burnt, and the ashes mixed with the new grain to preserve it from insects.” Yet again, he describes a sacrifice which was peculiar to the Khonds of Jeypore. “It is,” he writes, “always succeeded by the sacrifice of three human beings, two to the sun to the east and west of the village, and one in the centre, [377]with the usual barbarities of the Meriah. A stout wooden post about six feet long is firmly fixed in the ground, at the foot of it a narrow grave is dug, and to the top of the post the victim is firmly fastened by the long hair of his head. Four assistants hold his outstretched arms and legs, the body being suspended horizontally over the grave, with the face towards the earth. The officiating Junna or priest, standing on the right side, repeats the following invocation, at intervals hacking with his sacrificial knife the back part of the shrieking victim’s neck. ‘O! mighty Manicksoro, this is your festal day. To the Khonds the offering is Meriah, to kings Junna. On account of this sacrifice, you have given to kings kingdoms, guns and swords. The sacrifice we now offer you must eat, and we pray that our battle-axes may be converted into swords, our bows and arrows into gunpowder and balls; and, if we have any quarrels with other tribes, give us the victory. Preserve us from the tyranny of kings and their officers.’ Then, addressing the victim:—‘That we may enjoy prosperity, we offer you a sacrifice to our God Manicksoro, who will immediately eat you, so be not grieved at our slaying you. Your parents were aware, when we purchased you from them for sixty rupees, that we did so with intent to sacrifice you. There is, therefore, no sin on our heads, but on your parents. After you are dead, we shall perform your obsequies.’ The victim is then decapitated, the body thrown into the grave, and the head left suspended from the post till devoured by wild beasts. The knife remains fastened to the post till the three sacrifices have been performed, when it is removed with much ceremony. In an account by Captain Mac Viccar of the sacrifice as carried out at Eaji Deso, it is stated that on the day of sacrifice the Meriah is surrounded by the Khonds, who [378]beat him violently on the head with the heavy metal bangles which they purchase at the fairs, and wear on these occasions. If this inhuman smashing does not immediately destroy the victim’s life, an end is put to his sufferings by strangulation, a slit bamboo being used for the purpose. Strips of flesh are then cut off the back, and each recipient of the precious treasure carries his portion to the stream which waters his fields, and there suspends it on a pole. The remains of the mangled corpse are then buried, and funeral obsequies are performed seven days subsequently, and repeated one year afterwards.”

Concerning a method of sacrifice, which is illustrated by the post preserved in the Madras Museum, Colonel [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Campbell reports166 that “one of the most common ways of offering the sacrifice in Chinna Kimedi is to the effigy of an elephant (hatti mundo or elephant’s head) roughly carved in wood, fixed on top of a sturdy post, on which it is made to spin. After the usual ceremonies, the intended victim is tied to the elephant's trunk, and amidst the shouts and screams of the excited crowd of Khonds, is quickly spun around. At a signal from the officiating Zanee or priest, the crowd rushes in, grabs the Meriah, and with their knives, cut the flesh off the screaming victim for as long as he is alive. He is then cut down, the skeleton burned, and the horrific rituals come to an end. In several villages, I counted as many as fourteen elephant effigies, which had been used in previous sacrifices. I ordered these to be toppled by the baggage elephants from my camp in front of the gathered Khonds to show them that these revered objects had no power over the living animal and to eliminate any traces of their bloody superstition.” In another report, Colonel Campbell describes how the miserable victim is dragged through the fields, surrounded by a crowd of half-drunk Khonds, who, shouting and screaming, rush at him, and with their knives, slice the flesh piece by piece from the bones, avoiding the head and intestines, until the living skeleton, dying from blood loss, is relieved from torture, when its remains are burned, and the ashes mixed with the new grain to protect it from insects.” Again, he describes a sacrifice unique to the Khonds of Jeypore. “It is,” he writes, “always followed by the sacrifice of three human beings, two to the sun to the east and west of the village, and one in the center, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]with the usual brutalities of the Meriah. A solid wooden post about six feet long is firmly set in the ground, at its base a narrow grave is dug, and the victim is securely tied by the long hair of his head to the top of the post. Four assistants hold his outstretched arms and legs, while the body hangs horizontally over the grave, facing downward. The officiating Junna or priest, standing to the right, recites the following invocation, intermittently hacking at the back of the shrieking victim’s neck with his sacrificial knife. ‘O! mighty Manicksoro, this is your festival day. For the Khonds, the offering is Meriah, for kings, Junna. Because of this sacrifice, you have given kingdoms, guns, and swords to kings. The sacrifice we now offer you must eat, and we pray that our battle-axes may turn into swords, our bows and arrows into gunpowder and bullets; and if we have any conflicts with other tribes, grant us victory. Keep us safe from the oppression of kings and their officers.’ Then, addressing the victim:—‘So that we may have prosperity, we are offering you as a sacrifice to our God Manicksoro, who will immediately consume you, so do not be upset about our killing you. Your parents knew when we bought you from them for sixty rupees that we intended to sacrifice you. Therefore, there is no sin on our heads, but on your parents. After you die, we will perform your funeral rites.’ The victim is then decapitated, the body thrown into the grave, and the head left hanging from the post until eaten by wild animals. The knife remains attached to the post until all three sacrifices have been completed, when it is removed with great ceremony. In an account by Captain Mac Viccar of the sacrifice as done at Eaji Deso, it is stated that on the day of the sacrifice, the Meriah is surrounded by the Khonds, who [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] violently beat him on the head with the heavy metal bangles they buy at fairs and wear for these occasions. If this brutal smashing does not immediately kill the victim, his suffering is ended by strangulation, using a slit bamboo for this purpose. Strips of flesh are then cut from the back, and each person receiving this prized flesh carries their portion to the stream that waters their fields and hangs it on a pole there. The remains of the mangled body are then buried, and funeral rites are performed seven days later, repeated once a year afterward.”

Meriah Sacrifice Post.

Meriah Sacrifice Post.

Meriah Sacrifice Post.

The Kondhs of Bara Mootah promised to relinquish the rite on condition, inter alia, that they should be at liberty to sacrifice buffaloes, monkeys, goats, etc., to their deities with all the solemnities observed on occasions of human sacrifice; and that they should be at liberty, upon all occasions, to denounce to their gods the Government, and some of its servants in particular, as the cause of their having relinquished the great rite.

The Kondhs of Bara Mootah agreed to give up the ritual as long as they could continue to sacrifice buffaloes, monkeys, goats, and so on to their deities with all the formalities they used for human sacrifices. They also wanted the freedom to tell their gods at any time that the Government, and certain employees in particular, were the reason they had given up the important ritual.

The last recorded Meriah sacrifice in the Ganjam Māliahs occurred in 1852, and there are still Kondhs alive, who were present at it. Twenty-five descendants of persons who were reserved for sacrifice, but were rescued by Government officers, returned themselves as Meriah at the census, 1901. The Kondhs have now substituted a buffalo for a human being. The animal is hewn to pieces while alive, and the villagers rush home to their villages, to bury the flesh in the soil, and so secure prosperous crops. The sacrifice is not unaccompanied by risk to the performers, as the buffalo, before dying, frequently kills one or more of its tormenters. This was the case near Baliguda in 1899, when a buffalo killed the sacrificer. In the previous year, the desire of a village to intercept the bearer of the flesh for a [379]neighbouring village led to a fight, in which two men were killed.

The last recorded Meriah sacrifice among the Ganjam Māliahs took place in 1852, and there are still Kondhs alive who witnessed it. Twenty-five descendants of those who were meant to be sacrificed but were saved by government officials identified themselves as Meriah in the 1901 census. The Kondhs have since replaced a human sacrifice with a buffalo. The animal is cut into pieces while still alive, and the villagers hurry back to their homes to bury the flesh in the ground, believing this will ensure good harvests. This act isn't without danger for those involved, as the buffalo, before dying, often kills one or more of its attackers. This happened near Baliguda in 1899, when a buffalo killed the person performing the sacrifice. In the previous year, a village's attempt to stop the bearer of the flesh heading to a neighboring village led to a fight, resulting in the deaths of two men.

It was the practice, a few years ago, at every Dassara festival in Jeypore, Vizagapatam, to select a specially fine ram, wash it, shave its head, affix thereto red and white bottu and nāmam (sect marks) between the eyes and down the nose, and gird it with a new white cloth after the manner of a human being. The animal being then fastened in a sitting posture, certain pūja (worship) was performed by a Brāhman priest, and it was decapitated. The substitution of animals for human victims is indicated by various religious legends. Thus, a hind was substituted for Iphigenia, and a ram for Isaac.

It used to be common, a few years back, during every Dassara festival in Jeypore, Vizagapatam, to choose a particularly fine ram. They would wash it, shave its head, and put red and white sect marks between its eyes and down its nose, then wrap it in a new white cloth like a person. After securing the animal in a sitting position, a Brahman priest would perform a certain pūja (worship), and then it would be beheaded. Various religious legends suggest that animals replaced human sacrifices. For example, a hind was used instead of Iphigenia, and a ram instead of Isaac.

It was stated by the officers of the Meriah Agency that there was reason to believe that the Rāja of Jeypore, when he was installed on his father’s death in 1860–61, sacrificed a girl thirteen years of age at the shrine of the goddess Durga in the town of Jeypore.167 It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district (1907), that “goats and buffaloes now-a-days take the place of human Meriah victims, but the belief in the superior efficacy of the latter dies hard, and every now and again revives. When the Rampa rebellion of 1879–80 spread in this district, several cases of human sacrifice occurred in the disturbed tracts. In 1880, two persons were convicted of attempting a Meriah sacrifice near Ambadāla in Bissamkatak. In 1883, a man (a beggar and a stranger) was found at daybreak murdered in one of the temples in Jeypore, in circumstances which pointed to his having been slain as a Meriah; and, as late as 1886, a formal enquiry showed that there were ample grounds for the suspicion that the kidnapping of victims [380]still went on in Bastar.” As recently as 1902, a petition was presented to the District Magistrate of Ganjam, asking him to sanction the performance of a human sacrifice. The memory of the abandoned practice is kept green by one of the Kondh songs, for a translation of which we are indebted to Mr. J. E. Friend-Pereira.168

The officers of the Meriah Agency reported that there were reasons to suspect that the Rāja of Jeypore, upon taking the throne after his father's death in 1860–61, sacrificed a thirteen-year-old girl at the shrine of the goddess Durga in the town of Jeypore.167 According to the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district (1907), “nowadays, goats and buffaloes replace human Meriah victims, but the belief in the greater effectiveness of the latter is hard to shake off and occasionally resurfaces. During the Rampa rebellion of 1879–80, several instances of human sacrifice occurred in the affected areas. In 1880, two individuals were convicted for attempting a Meriah sacrifice near Ambadāla in Bissamkatak. In 1883, a man (a beggar and a stranger) was found murdered at daybreak in one of the temples in Jeypore, indicating he had likely been killed as a Meriah; and, as late as 1886, a formal investigation revealed substantial evidence to suspect that the kidnapping of victims [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] was still happening in Bastar.” As recently as 1902, a petition was submitted to the District Magistrate of Ganjam, requesting him to approve the performance of a human sacrifice. The memory of this abandoned practice is kept alive by one of the Kondh songs, for which we are grateful to Mr. J. E. Friend-Pereira.168

“At the time of the great Kiabon (Campbell) Sahib’s coming, the country was in darkness; it was enveloped in mist.

“At the time of the great Kiabon (Campbell) Sahib’s arrival, the country was in darkness; it was shrouded in mist.”

Having sent paiks to collect the people of the land, they, having surrounded them, caught the Meriah sacrificers.

Having sent messengers to gather the locals, they surrounded them and captured the Meriah sacrificers.

Having caught the Meriah sacrificers, they brought them, and again they went and seized the evil councillors.

Having caught the Meriah sacrificers, they brought them in, and then they went and grabbed the evil advisers.

Having seen the chains and shackles, the people were afraid; murder and bloodshed were quelled.

Seeing the chains and shackles, the people were scared; murder and violence came to a halt.

Then the land became beautiful, and a certain Mokodella (Macpherson) Sahib came.

Then the land became beautiful, and a certain Mokodella (Macpherson) Sahib arrived.

He destroyed the lairs of the tigers and bears in the hills and rocks, and taught wisdom to the people.

He wiped out the dens of the tigers and bears in the hills and rocks, and shared his knowledge with the people.

After the lapse of a month, he built bungalows and schools; and he advised them to learn reading and law.

After a month passed, he built bungalows and schools, and he encouraged them to learn to read and understand the law.

They learnt wisdom and reading; they acquired silver and gold. Then all the people became wealthy.”

They gained knowledge and learned to read; they obtained silver and gold. Then everyone became rich.

Human sacrifice was not practiced in the Kurtilli Muttah of the Ganjam Māliahs. The reason of this is assigned to the fact that the first attempt was made with a crooked knife, and the sacrificers made such a bad business of it that they gave it up. Colonel Campbell gives another tradition, that, through humanity, one of the Kurtilli Pātros (head of a group of villages) threatened to leave the muttah if the practice was carried out. [381]

Human sacrifice was not practiced in the Kurtilli Muttah of the Ganjam Māliahs. This is said to be because the first attempt was made with a crooked knife, and the sacrificers messed it up so badly that they decided to stop. Colonel Campbell shares another story that out of compassion, one of the Kurtilli Pātros (the leader of a group of villages) threatened to leave the muttah if the practice continued. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Of a substituted sacrifice, which was carried out in the Ganjam Māliahs in 1894,169 the following graphic account has been given. “Suddenly we came upon a number of Khonds carrying an immensely long bamboo, about fifty feet in length, surmounted by a gorgeous sort of balloon made of red and white cloth stretched on a bamboo frame. Attached to this were dried strips of pig’s flesh, and the whole of the extraordinary structure was surmounted by a huge plume of peacock’s feathers that waved gaily in the breeze. Along with this was carried another bamboo, not so long, slung all over with iron bells. We found that the men had been worshipping, and presenting these structures to a sylvan deity close by, and were now hastening to the small Khond village of Dhuttiegaum, the scene of the present Meriah sacrifice. Half a mile brought us to this hamlet, situated amongst a dense grove of trees, in the midst of which was tied to a curiously fluted and carved wooden post the sacrificial buffalo, a placid animal, with its body glistening with the oil of many anointings. The huge bamboo pole, with its crown of red and white cloth and peacock’s feathers, and incongruous shreds of dried pig’s flesh, was now erected in the centre of the village. The comparative quiet in the village did not last long, for on a sudden the air was rent with a succession of shrieks. With the sound of the beating of Māliah drums, and the blowing of buffalo horns, a party of Khonds came madly dancing and rushing down a steep hillside from some neighbouring village. They dashed up to the buffalo, and began frantically dancing with the villagers already assembled round and round the animal. Each man carried a green bough of some tree, a sharp knife, and a tanghi. They [382]were all adorned in holiday attire, their hair combed and knotted on the forehead, and profusely decorated with waving feathers. All of them were more or less intoxicated. Various other villagers now began to arrive, thick and fast, in the same manner, with wavings of green boughs, flourishing of knives, and hideous yells. Each party was led by the headman or Moliko of the village. The dancing now became more general, and faster and more furious, as more and more joined the human ‘merry go round,’ circling about the unfortunate buffalo. The women, who had followed their lords and masters at a discreet distance, stood sedately by in a group, and took no part whatever in the revels. They were for the most part fine buxom girls, well groomed and oiled, and stood demurely watching everything with their sharp black eyes. The hitherto quiet buffalo, who for nearly two days had been without food and water, now began to get excited, and, straining at its tether, plunged and butted at the dancers, catching one man neatly on the nose so that the blood flowed copiously. However, the Khonds were too excited to care, and circled round and round the poor maddened brute, singing and blowing horns into its ears, beating drums, and every now and then offering it cakes brought with them from their villages, and then laying them on the top of the post as offerings. As they thus madly careered about, we had ample time to note their extraordinary costumes. One man had somehow got hold of an old blue Police overcoat, which he had put on inside out, and round his waist he had gathered what seemed to be a number of striped tent carpets, forming a stiff ballet skirt or kilt. He was one of the most athletic in spinning round the buffalo, flourishing a kitchen chopper. Another man’s costume consisted of almost nothing at all. He [383]had, however, profusely daubed his body with white and black spots, and on his head he had centred all his decorative genius. The head in question was swathed in yards of cloth, terminating at the back in a perfect cascade of cock’s feathers. He excitedly waved over this erection an ancient and very rusty umbrella, with many ventilations, with streamers of white cloth attached to the top. Others had tied on to their heads with bands of cloth the horns of buffaloes, or brass horns made in imitation of those of the spotted deer. Their long, black and curly hair hung in masses from beneath this strange erection, giving them a most startling appearance. The dancing round the buffalo lasted quite two hours, as they were waiting for the arrival of the Pātro, before concluding the final ceremonies, and the great man was fashionably late. To incite their jaded energies to further terpsichorean efforts, from time to time the dancers drank copious draughts of a kind of beer, used specially on these occasions, and made from kukuri, a species of grain. At last, the long expected Pātro arrived with the usual uproar of many deafening sounds, both artificial and natural, and with the waving of green boughs. On this occasion he walked last, while the whole of his retinue preceded him dancing, headed by an ancient and withered hag, carrying on her shoulders a Māliah drum of cow-hide stretched tightly over a hoop of iron, and vigorously beaten from behind her by a Khond with stiff thongs of dried leather. The great man himself walked sedately, followed by his ‘charger,’ a broken-kneed tat (pony), extraordinarily caparisoned, and led by a youth of tender years, whose sole garment consisted of a faded red drummer’s coat of antiquated cut. As soon as the Pātro had seated himself comfortably on a log near the dancers, a change came over the scene. [384]The hitherto shouting and madly revolving throng stopped their gyrations round the stupefied beast, too much exhausted and frightened to offer any resistance, and, falling on its neck and body, began to smother it with caresses and endearments, and, to a low plaintive air, crooned and wailed over it, the following dirge, of which I append a rude translation. Tradition says that they used to sing it, with slight variations, over their human victims before the sacrifice:—

Of a substituted sacrifice that took place in the Ganjam Māliahs in 1894, the following vivid account has been provided. “Suddenly, we came across a group of Khonds carrying a long bamboo pole, about fifty feet in length, topped with a beautiful balloon made of red and white cloth stretched over a bamboo frame. Attached to it were dried strips of pig’s meat, and the entire remarkable structure was topped with a large plume of peacock feathers that waved happily in the breeze. They also carried another shorter bamboo pole, adorned with iron bells. We discovered that the men had been worshipping and presenting these structures to a forest deity nearby, and were now rushing to the small Khond village of Dhuttiegaum, the site of the current Meriah sacrifice. A half-mile walk brought us to this village, set among a dense grove of trees, where the sacrificial buffalo, a calm animal, was tied to an intricately fluted and carved wooden post, its body glistening with the oil from countless anointings. The tall bamboo pole, with its crown of red and white cloth and peacock feathers, along with the incongruous scraps of dried pig’s flesh, was now erected in the center of the village. The previously quiet village soon erupted with a chorus of shrieks. With the sound of Māliah drums and the blowing of buffalo horns, a group of Khonds came rushing down a steep hillside from a nearby village, dancing wildly. They charged up to the buffalo and began to dance frantically with the villagers already gathered around the animal. Each man held a green branch, a sharp knife, and a tanghi. They were all dressed in festive clothing, their hair styled and tied at the forehead, adorned with waving feathers. Most of them appeared to be somewhat intoxicated. Other villagers began to arrive quickly, waving green branches, brandishing knives, and letting out horrible yells. Each group was led by the village headman or Moliko. The dancing quickly became more general and faster as more people joined the chaotic ‘merry-go-round’ circling the unfortunate buffalo. The women, who followed their husbands at a respectful distance, stood quietly in a group, taking no part in the festivities. They were mostly attractive and well-groomed young women, watching everything with their sharp black eyes. The buffalo, which had been without food and water for nearly two days, started to get agitated, straining at its rope and charging at the dancers, catching one man squarely on the nose and causing blood to flow freely. However, the Khonds were too caught up in the moment to care, continuing to circle the terrified creature, singing and blowing horns in its ears, beating drums, and occasionally offering it cakes brought from their villages, which they then placed on top of the post as offerings. As they wildly danced around, we had plenty of time to take in their extraordinary costumes. One man had somehow gotten hold of an old blue police overcoat, which he wore inside out, and around his waist, he had gathered what looked like a bunch of striped tent carpets, creating a stiff ballet skirt or kilt. He was one of the most agile in spinning around the buffalo, waving a kitchen cleaver. Another man wore almost nothing at all, but he had painted his body with white and black spots, while his head was a showcase of creative flair. His head was wrapped in yards of cloth, trailing down into a cascade of rooster feathers. He excitedly waved a very old and rusty umbrella, with plenty of holes, with streamers of white cloth attached at the top. Others had tied horns from buffaloes or brass horns resembling those of the spotted deer to their heads. Their long, black, and curly hair hung abundantly beneath this bizarre headgear, giving them a shocking appearance. The dancing around the buffalo lasted a full two hours as they waited for the arrival of the Pātro before completing the final ceremonies, and he was fashionably late. To boost their tired spirits for more dancing, the participants periodically drank plenty of a type of beer made from kukuri, a kind of grain, specifically for these occasions. Finally, the long-awaited Pātro arrived, accompanied by a cacophony of loud sounds, both artificial and natural, and waving green branches. On this occasion, he walked last, while his entire group danced ahead of him, led by an old and frail woman carrying a Māliah drum made of tight cow-hide over a hoop of iron, vigorously beaten from behind by a Khond using thick leather thongs. The great man himself walked calmly, followed by his ‘mount,’ a broken-kneed pony, extravagantly adorned, and led by a youthful boy whose only clothing was a faded red drummer’s coat of an outdated style. As soon as the Pātro sat comfortably on a log near the dancers, the atmosphere shifted. The shouting and wildly spinning crowd suddenly stopped their actions around the perplexed beast, too exhausted and frightened to resist, and began to shower it with affection, gently stroking its neck and body, while they sang a low, mournful tune, crooning and lamenting over it, reciting a dirge, of which I include a rough translation. Tradition says they used to sing this, with slight variations, over their human sacrifices before the ceremony:—

Blame us not, O buffalo!

Don't blame us, O buffalo!

Thus for sacrificing thee,

So for sacrificing you,

For our fathers have ordained

For our fathers have commanded

This ancient mystery.

This old mystery.

We have bought thee with a price,

We have bought you at a price,

Have paid for thee all thy worth.

I have paid you everything you're worth.

What blame can rest upon us,

What blame can be placed on us,

Who save our land from dearth?

Who will save our land from famine?

Famine stares us in the face,

Famine faces us directly,

Parched are our fields, and dry,

Parched are our fields, and dry,

Death looks in at ev’ry door,

Death looks in at every door,

For food our young ones cry.

Our kids cry for food.

Thadi Pennoo veils her face,

Thadi Pennoo covers her face,

Propitiate me, she cries,

Propitiate me, she pleads,

Give to me of flesh and blood,

Give me real people,

A willing sacrifice.

A willing offering.

That where’er its blood is shed,

That wherever its blood is spilled,

On land, or field, or hill,

On land, in the field, or on the hill,

There the gen’rous grain may spring,

There the generous grain can grow,

So ye may eat your fill.

So you can eat your fill.

Then be glad, O buffalo!

Then be happy, O buffalo!

Willing sacrifice to be,

Willing to make sacrifices,

Soon in Thadi’s meadows green,

Soon in Thadi's green fields,

Thou shalt brouse eternally.

You will browse forever.

After the Khonds had been chanting this sacrificial hymn for some time, the buffalo was untied from the carved [385]post, and led, with singing, dancing and shouting, and with the noise of many musical instruments, to a sacred grove a few hundred yards off, and there tied to a stake. As soon as it had been firmly tied, the Khonds threw off all their superfluous clothing to the large crowd of womankind waiting near, and stood round the animal, each man with his hand uplifted, and holding a sharp knife ready to strike at a moment’s notice, as soon as the priest or Janni had given the word of command. The Janni, who did not differ outwardly from the others, now gave the buffalo a slight tap on the head with a small axe. An indescribable scene followed. The Khonds in a body fell on the animal, and, in an amazingly short time, literally tore the living victim to shreds with their knives, leaving nothing but the head, bones, and stomach. Death must, mercifully, have been almost instantaneous. Every particle of flesh and skin had been stripped off during the few minutes they fought and struggled over the buffalo, eagerly grasping for every atom of flesh. As soon as a man had secured a piece of flesh, he rushed away with the gory mass, as fast as he could, to his fields, to bury it therein according to ancient custom, before the sun had set. As some of them had to do good distances to effect this, it was imperative that they should run very fast. A curious scene now took place, for which we could obtain no explanation. As the men ran, all the women flung after them clods of earth, some of them taking very good effect. The sacred grove was cleared of people, save a few that guarded the remnants left of the buffalo, which were taken, and burnt with ceremony at the foot of the stake.”

After the Khonds had been chanting this sacrificial hymn for a while, the buffalo was untied from the carved [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] post and led, along with singing, dancing, shouting, and the noise of various musical instruments, to a sacred grove a few hundred yards away. There, it was tied to a stake. Once it was securely tied, the Khonds removed all their extra clothing to the large crowd of women nearby and gathered around the animal, each man with one hand raised, holding a sharp knife ready to strike at a moment's notice as soon as the priest or Janni gave the command. The Janni, who appeared no different from the others, then gave the buffalo a slight tap on the head with a small axe. An indescribable scene followed. The Khonds jumped on the animal and, in an astonishingly brief time, literally tore the living victim to pieces with their knives, leaving only the head, bones, and stomach. Thankfully, death must have been almost instantaneous. Every bit of flesh and skin had been stripped off during the few minutes they fought and scrambled over the buffalo, eagerly grasping for every piece. As soon as a man got a piece of flesh, he ran away with the bloody mass as quickly as he could to his fields, to bury it there according to ancient tradition, before the sun set. Since some had to travel considerable distances to do this, it was crucial that they ran very fast. A curious scene then unfolded, which we couldn't explain. As the men ran, all the women threw clods of earth at them, some connecting quite well. The sacred grove was cleared of people, except for a few who guarded the remnants left of the buffalo, which were taken and burned ceremonially at the foot of the stake.

I pass on to the subject of infanticide among the Kondhs. It is stated, in the Manual of the Vizagapatam district, that female infanticide used to be very common all over the Jeypore country, and the Rājah is said to [386]have made money out of it in one large tāluk (division). The custom was to consult the Dāsari (priest) when a child was born as to its fate. If it was to be killed, the parents had to pay the Amīn of the tāluk a fee for the privilege of killing it; and the Amīn used to pay the Rājah three hundred rupees a year for renting the privilege of giving the license and pocketing the fees. The practice of female infanticide was formerly very prevalent among the Kondhs of Ganjam, and, in 1841, Lieutenant Macpherson was deputed to carry into effect the measures which had been proposed by Lord Elphinstone for the suppression of the Meriah sacrifices and infanticide. The custom was ascribed to various beliefs, viz., (1) that it was an injunction by god, as one woman made the whole world suffer; (2) that it conduces to male offspring; (3) that woman, being a mischief-maker, is better out of the world than in it; (4) that the difficulty, owing to poverty, in providing marriage portions was an objection to rearing females. From Macpherson’s well known report170 the following extracts are taken. “The portion of the Khond country, in which the practice of female infanticide is known to prevail, is roughly estimated at 2,400 square miles, its population at 60,000, and the number of infants destroyed annually at 1,200 to 1,500. The tribes (who practice infanticide) belong to the division of the Khond people which does not offer human sacrifices. The usage of infanticide has existed amongst them from time immemorial. It owes its origin and its maintenance partly to religious opinions, partly to ideas from which certain very important features of Khond manners arise. The Khonds believe that the supreme deity, the sun god, created all things [387]good; that the earth goddess introduced evil into the world; and that these two powers have since conflicted. The non-sacrificing tribes make the supreme deity the great object of their adoration, neglecting the earth goddess. The sacrificing tribes, on the other hand, believe the propitiation of the latter power to be the most necessary worship. Now the tribes which practice female infanticide hold that the sun god, in contemplating the deplorable effects produced by the creation of feminine nature, charged men to bring up only as many females as they could restrain from producing evil to society. This is the first idea upon which the usage is founded. Again, the Khonds believe that souls almost invariably return to animate human forms in the families in which they have been first born and received. But the reception of the soul of an infant into a family is completed only on the performance of the ceremony of naming upon the seventh day after its birth. The death of a female infant, therefore, before that ceremonial of reception, is believed to exclude its soul from the circle of family spirits, diminishing by one the chance of future female births in the family. And, as the first aspiration of every Khond is to have male children, this belief is a powerful incentive to infanticide.” Macpherson, during his campaign, came across many villages of about a hundred houses, in which there was not a single female child. In like manner, in 1855, Captain Frye found many Baro Bori Khond villages without a single female child in them.

I’ll move on to the topic of infanticide among the Kondhs. The Manual of the Vizagapatam district states that female infanticide used to be very common throughout the Jeypore area, and it is said that the Rājah made money from it in one large tāluk (division). The custom was to consult the Dāsari (priest) at the birth of a child regarding its fate. If the decision was to kill the child, the parents had to pay the Amīn of the tāluk a fee for permission to do so; in turn, the Amīn would pay the Rājah three hundred rupees a year for the right to issue licenses and collect fees. Female infanticide was historically widespread among the Kondhs of Ganjam, and in 1841, Lieutenant Macpherson was appointed to implement measures suggested by Lord Elphinstone to stop Meriah sacrifices and infanticide. The custom was attributed to various beliefs, including (1) a divine injunction because one woman caused suffering for all; (2) a belief that it leads to more male offspring; (3) the idea that women, being troublemakers, are better out of the world; and (4) the financial difficulty of providing dowries for female children made raising them an issue. From Macpherson’s well-known report, the following extracts are taken. “The area of Khond territory where female infanticide is practiced is roughly estimated at 2,400 square miles, with a population of 60,000, and the number of infants killed annually is around 1,200 to 1,500. The tribes that practice infanticide belong to the Khond division that does not engage in human sacrifices. This practice has been a tradition for them since ancient times, stemming partly from religious beliefs and partly from certain significant aspects of Khond social customs. The Khonds believe that the supreme deity, the sun god, created all things good; the earth goddess is blamed for introducing evil into the world; and these two forces have been in constant conflict. The tribes that do not sacrifice focus their worship on the supreme deity, neglecting the earth goddess. Conversely, the sacrificing tribes believe it is crucial to appease the earth goddess. The tribes practicing female infanticide think that the sun god, seeing the negative impact of women, instructed men to raise only as many females as they could control from causing harm to society. This is the primary belief behind the practice. Additionally, the Khonds believe that souls typically return to inhabit human forms in the families where they were first born. However, the acceptance of an infant's soul into a family is completed only through the naming ceremony performed on the seventh day after birth. Therefore, if a female infant dies before this ceremony, it is believed that her soul does not join the family spirits, reducing the likelihood of future female births in that family. And since the main aspiration of every Khond is to have male children, this idea serves as a strong motivator for infanticide.” During his campaign, Macpherson encountered many villages of about a hundred homes, where not a single female child could be found. Similarly, in 1855, Captain Frye discovered numerous Baro Bori Khond villages without a single female child among them.

In savage societies, it has been said, sexual unions were generally effected by the violent capture of the woman. By degrees these captures have become friendly ones, and have ended in a peaceful exogamy, retaining the ancient custom only in the ceremonial form. Whereof an excellent example is afforded by the Kondhs, [388]concerning whom the author of the Ganjam Manual writes as follows. “The parents arrange the marriages of their children. The bride is looked upon as a commercial speculation, and is paid for in gontis. A gonti is one of anything, such as a buffalo, a pig, or a brass pot; for instance, a hundred gontis might consist of ten bullocks, ten buffaloes, ten sacks of corn, ten sets of brass, twenty sheep, ten pigs, and thirty fowls. The usual price, however, paid by the bridegroom’s father for the bride, is twenty or thirty gontis. A Khond finds his wife from among the women of any mutāh (village) than his own. On the day fixed for the bride being taken home to her husband’s house, the pieces of broom in her ears are removed, and are replaced by brass rings. The bride is covered over with a red blanket, and carried astride on her uncle’s back towards the husband’s village, accompanied by the young women of her own village. Music is played, and in the rear are carried brass playthings, such as horses, etc., for the bridegroom, and cloths and brass pins as presents for the bridegroom from the bride’s father. On the road, at the village boundary, the procession is met by the bridegroom and the young men of his village, with their heads and bodies wrapped up in blankets and cloths. Each is armed with a bundle of long thin bamboo sticks. The young women of the bride’s village at once attack the bridegroom’s party with sticks, stones, and clods of earth, which the young men ward off with the bamboo sticks. A running fight is in this manner kept up until the village is reached, when the stone-throwing invariably ceases, and the bridegroom’s uncle, snatching up the bride, carries her off to her husband’s house. This fighting is by no means child’s play, and the men are sometimes seriously injured. The whole party is then entertained by the bridegroom [389]as lavishly as his means will permit. On the day after the bride’s arrival, a buffalo and a pig are slaughtered and eaten, and, upon the bride’s attendants returning home on the evening of the second day, a male and female buffalo, or some less valuable present, is given to them. On the third day, all the Khonds of the village have a grand dance or tamāsha (festivity), and on the fourth day there is another grand assembly at the house of the bridegroom. The bride and bridegroom are then made to sit down on a cot, and the bridegroom’s brother, pointing upwards to the roof of the house, says: “As long as this girl stays with us, may her children be as men and tigers; but, if she goes astray, may her children be as snakes and monkeys, and die and be destroyed!” In his report upon the Kondhs (1842), Macpherson tells us that “they hold a feast at the bride’s house. Far into the night the principals in the scene are raised by an uncle of each upon his shoulders, and borne through the dance. The burdens are suddenly exchanged, and the uncle of the youth disappears with the bride. The assembly divides itself into two parties. The friends of the bride endeavour to arrest, those of the bridegroom to cover her flight, and men, women, and children mingle in mock conflict. I saw a man bearing away upon his back something enveloped in an ample covering of scarlet cloth. He was surrounded by twenty or thirty young fellows, and by them protected from the desperate attacks made upon him by a party of young women. The man was just married, and the burden was his blooming bride, whom he was conveying to his own village. Her youthful friends were, according to custom, seeking to regain possession of her, and hurled stones and bamboos at the head of the devoted bridegroom, until he reached the confines of his own village. Then the tables were [390]turned, and the bride was fairly won; and off her young friends scampered, screaming and laughing, but not relaxing their speed till they reached their own village.” Among the Kondhs of Gumsūr, the friends and relations of the bride and bridegroom collect at an appointed spot. The people of the female convoy call out to the others to come and take the bride, and then a mock fight with stones and thorny brambles is begun by the female convoy against the parties composing the other one. In the midst of the tumult the assaulted party takes possession of the bride, and all the furniture brought with her, and carry all off together.171 According to another account, the bride, as soon as she enters the bridegroom’s house, has two enormous bracelets, or rather handcuffs of brass, each weighing from twenty to thirty pounds, attached to each wrist. The unfortunate girl has to sit with her two wrists resting on her shoulders, so as to support these enormous weights. This is to prevent her from running away to her old home. On the third day the bangles are removed, as it is supposed that by then the girl has become reconciled to her fate. These marriage bangles are made on the hills, and are curiously carved in fluted and zigzag lines, and kept as heirlooms in the family, to be used at the next marriage in the house. According to a still more recent account of marriage among the Kondhs172 an old woman suddenly rushes forward, seizes the bride, flings her on her back, and carries her off. A man comes to the front, catches the groom, and places him astride on his shoulder. The human horses neigh and prance about like the live quadruped, and finally rush away to the outskirts of the village. This is a signal for [391]the bride’s girl friends to chase the couple, and pelt them with clods of earth, stones, mud, cowdung, and rice. When the mock assault is at an end, the older people come up, and all accompany the bridal pair to the groom’s village. A correspondent informs me that he once saw a Kondh bride going to her new home, riding on her uncle’s shoulders, and wrapped in a red blanket. She was followed by a bevy of girls and relations, and preceded by drums and horns. He was told that the uncle had to carry her the whole way, and that, if he had to put her down, a fine of a buffalo was inflicted, the animal being killed and eaten. It is recorded that a European magistrate once mistook a Kondh marriage for a riot, but, on enquiry, discovered his mistake.

In primitive societies, it’s been noted that sexual relationships often started with the forceful capture of women. Over time, these captures have become more friendly, leading to peaceful practices of marrying outside one’s community, keeping only the old customs in a ceremonial sense. An excellent example of this can be seen with the Kondhs, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]whose marriages, as noted by the author of the Ganjam Manual, are arranged by the parents. The bride is viewed as a business deal and is paid for with gontis. A gonti can be anything from a buffalo, pig, or brass pot; for example, a hundred gontis might include ten bullocks, ten buffaloes, ten sacks of corn, ten sets of brass, twenty sheep, ten pigs, and thirty fowls. Typically, the bridegroom’s father pays twenty or thirty gontis for the bride. A Khond can choose his wife from among the women of any mutāh (village) other than his own. On the day of the bride’s transfer to her husband’s home, the pieces of broom in her ears are taken out and replaced with brass rings. She is wrapped in a red blanket and carried on her uncle’s back to her husband’s village, accompanied by the young women from her village. Music plays, and behind them are carried brass toys, like horses, for the bridegroom, along with clothes and brass pins as gifts for him from the bride’s father. Along the way, at the village border, the procession is greeted by the bridegroom and young men from his village, wrapped in blankets and cloths. Each one is holding a bundle of long bamboo sticks. The young women from the bride’s village immediately launch an attack on the bridegroom’s group with sticks, stones, and clods of dirt, which the young men fend off with their bamboo sticks. This playful fight continues until they reach the village, where the throwing stops, and the bridegroom’s uncle, snatching up the bride, carries her off to her husband’s home. This playful combat can be quite serious, and men sometimes get hurt. After this, the bridegroom [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]entertains the entire group as generously as he can. The day after the bride arrives, a buffalo and a pig are killed and eaten, and when the bride’s friends return home on the second evening, they are given either a male and female buffalo or another less valuable gift. On the third day, all the Khonds in the village participate in a big dance or tamāsha (celebration), and on the fourth day, there is another significant gathering at the bridegroom’s house. The bride and groom sit on a cot, and the groom’s brother, pointing to the roof, says: “As long as this girl stays with us, may her children be as strong as men and tigers; but if she strays away, may her children be as weak as snakes and monkeys, doomed to die!” In his report on the Kondhs (1842), Macpherson noted, “they hold a feast at the bride’s home. Well into the night, the main individuals are lifted by an uncle each onto his shoulders and carried into the dance. The burdens are suddenly switched, and the groom’s uncle takes off with the bride. The gathering splits into two groups. The bride’s friends try to stop the groom’s side from taking her, while the groom’s friends work to protect her escape, resulting in a playful chaos of men, women, and children. I watched a man carrying something covered in a large red cloth on his back. He was surrounded by twenty or thirty young men who shielded him from the frenzied attempts by a group of young women to reclaim her. The man had just married, and the burden was his lovely bride, whom he was taking to his village. Her youthful friends were, as per tradition, trying to get her back, throwing stones and bamboo at the groom’s head until he reached the edge of his own village. Once there, the situation changed, and the bride was officially taken; her friends sped away laughing and screaming, not slowing down until they reached their own village.” Among the Kondhs of Gumsūr, the friends and family of the bride and groom gather at a set location. The women in the bride’s group call out to the others to come and claim the bride, which leads to a mock battle involving stones and thorny branches from the bride’s group against the other group. In the midst of this chaos, the attacked group manages to take the bride and any furniture brought with her and carries everything off together.171 According to another account, once the bride enters the groom’s home, two large brass bracelets, essentially handcuffs, each weighing between twenty to thirty pounds, are fastened to each wrist. The unfortunate girl has to keep her wrists resting on her shoulders to support these heavy weights. This is to deter her from running back to her old home. On the third day, the bangles are removed, as it’s believed by then she has accepted her new life. These marriage bangles, made in the hills, are intricately carved with fluted and zigzag patterns and are kept as family heirlooms for future marriages. According to a more recent account of marriage customs among the Kondhs172, an older woman suddenly rushes in, grabs the bride, and carries her off on her back. A man steps forward, taking the groom and tossing him onto his shoulder. They act like human horses, neighing and prancing around as they dash to the village outskirts. This signals [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the bride’s girlfriends to chase after them, throwing dirt clods, stones, mud, cow dung, and rice. Once the playful assault wraps up, the older people join in, and everyone accompanies the bridal couple to the groom’s village. A correspondent shared that he once saw a Kondh bride being carried to her new home on her uncle’s shoulders, wrapped in a red blanket. She was flanked by a group of girls and relatives, with drums and horns announcing their arrival. He was told that her uncle had to carry her the entire distance, and if he ever had to put her down, he’d be fined a buffalo, which would then be killed and consumed. It’s noted that a European magistrate once mistook a Kondh wedding for a riot, but upon investigating, realized his error.

Reference has been made above to certain brass playthings, which are carried in the bridal procession. The figures include peacocks, chamæleons, cobras, crabs, horses, deer, tigers, cocks, elephants, human beings, musicians, etc. They are cast by the cire perdue process. The core of the figure is roughly shaped in clay, according to the usual practice, but, instead of laying on the wax in an even thickness, thin wax threads are first made, and arranged over the core so as to form a network, or placed in parallel lines or diagonally, according as the form of the figure or fancy of the workman dictates. The head, arms, and feet are modelled in the ordinary way. The wax threads are made by means of a bamboo tube, into the end of which a moveable brass plate is fitted. The wax, being made sufficiently soft by heat, is pressed through the perforation at the end of the tube, and comes out in the form of long threads, which must be used by the workmen before they become hard and brittle. The chief place where these figures are made is Belugunta, near Russellkonda in [392]Ganjam. It is noted by Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson173 that the Kondhs of Gumsūr, to represent their deities Jara Pennu, the Linga Dēvata, or Petri Dēvata, keep in their houses brass figures of elephants, peacocks, dolls, fishes, etc. If affliction happens to any one belonging to the household, or if the country skin eruption breaks out on any of them, they put rice into milk, and, mixing turmeric with it, sprinkle the mixture on the figures, and, killing fowls and sheep, cause worship to be made by the Jāni, and, making bāji, eat.

Reference has been made above to certain brass toys carried in the bridal procession. The figures include peacocks, chameleons, cobras, crabs, horses, deer, tigers, roosters, elephants, people, musicians, and more. They are cast using the cire perdue process. The core of the figure is roughly shaped in clay, as is usually done, but instead of layering the wax evenly, thin wax threads are first created and arranged over the core to form a network or placed in parallel lines or diagonally, depending on the shape of the figure or the craftsman's preference. The head, arms, and feet are modeled in the traditional way. The wax threads are produced using a bamboo tube with a movable brass plate fitted at the end. The wax, softened by heat, is pressed through the opening at the end of the tube and comes out as long threads, which workers must use before they harden and become brittle. The main place where these figures are made is Belugunta, near Russellkonda in [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Ganjam. Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson173 notes that the Kondhs of Gumsūr, to represent their deities Jara Pennu, the Linga Dēvata, or Petri Dēvata, keep brass figures of elephants, peacocks, dolls, fish, and more in their homes. If someone in the household faces hardship or if anyone develops a skin eruption, they mix rice into milk with turmeric and sprinkle the mixture on the figures. Then, they kill fowl and sheep, have worship done by the Jāni, and make bāji to eat.

At a marriage among the Kondhs of Baliguda, after the heads of the bride and bridegroom have been brought together, an arrow is discharged from a bow by the younger brother of the bridegroom into the grass roof of the hut. At the betrothal ceremony of some Kondhs, a buffalo and pig are killed, and some of the viscera eaten. Various parts are distributed according to an abiding rule, viz., the head to the bridegroom’s maternal uncle, the flesh of the sides to his sisters, and of the back among other relations and friends. Some Kondh boys of ten or twelve years of age are said to be married to girls of fifteen or sixteen. At Shubernagiri, in the Ganjam Māliahs, are two trysting trees, consisting of a jāk (Artocarpus integrifolia) and mango growing close together. The custom was for a Kondh, who was unable to pay the marriage fees to the Pātro (headman), to meet his love here by night and plight his troth, and then for the two to retire into the jungle for three days and nights before returning to the village. Afterwards, they were considered to be man and wife.

At a wedding among the Kondhs of Baliguda, after the heads of the bride and groom are brought together, the younger brother of the groom shoots an arrow from a bow into the grass roof of the hut. During the betrothal ceremony for some Kondhs, a buffalo and a pig are killed, and some of the organs are eaten. Different parts are shared according to a longstanding rule: the head goes to the groom’s maternal uncle, the side meat goes to his sisters, and the back meat is shared among other relatives and friends. Some Kondh boys around ten or twelve years old are said to be married to girls who are fifteen or sixteen. At Shubernagiri, in the Ganjam Māliahs, there are two meeting trees, one jāk (Artocarpus integrifolia) and one mango, growing close together. The custom was for a Kondh who could not afford to pay the marriage fees to the Pātro (headman) to meet his love here at night, pledge their troth, and then the two would go into the jungle for three days and nights before returning to the village. After that, they were considered married.

It is noted by Mr. Friend-Pereira174 that, at the ceremonial for settling the preliminaries of a Kondh [393]marriage, a knotted string is put into the hands of the sēridāhpa gātāru (searchers for the bride), and a similar string is kept by the girl’s people. The reckoning of the date of the betrothal ceremony is kept by undoing a knot in the string every morning.

It’s pointed out by Mr. Friend-Pereira174 that, during the ceremony to arrange the details of a Kondh [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] marriage, a knotted string is given to the sēridāhpa gātāru (the searchers for the bride), while a similar string is held by the girl’s family. The timing of the betrothal ceremony is tracked by undoing a knot in the string every morning.

Some years ago, a young Kondh was betrothed to the daughter of another Kondh, and, after a few years, managed to pay up the necessary number of gifts. He then applied to the girl’s father to name the day for the marriage. Before the wedding took place, however, a Pāno went to the girl’s father, and said that she was his daughter (she had been born before her parents were married), and that he was the man to whom the gifts should have been paid. The case was referred to a council meeting, which decided in favour of the Pāno.

Some years ago, a young Kondh got engaged to the daughter of another Kondh, and after a few years, he managed to provide all the necessary gifts. He then asked the girl's father to set a date for the wedding. However, before the wedding could happen, a Pāno approached the girl's father and claimed that she was his daughter (she was born before her parents got married) and that he was the person to whom the gifts should have been given. The matter was brought to a council meeting, which ruled in favor of the Pāno.

Of birth ceremonies, the following account is given by Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar. The woman is attended in her confinement by an elderly Kondh midwife, who shampooes her abdomen with castor-oil. The umbilical cord is cut by the mother of the infant. For this purpose, the right thigh of the baby is flexed towards its abdomen, and a piece of cooled charcoal placed on its right knee. The cord is placed on the charcoal, and divided with the sharp edge of an arrow. The placenta is buried close to the house near a wall. After the cord has been severed, the mother daubs the region of the infant’s navel with her saliva, over which she smears castor-oil. She then warms her hands at a fire, and applies them to the infant’s body. [It is stated, in the Ganjam Manual, that the infant is held before a hot fire, and half roasted.] The warming is repeated several times daily for four or five days. When the umbilical cord has sloughed off, a spider is burnt to ashes over a fire, placed in a cocoanut shell, mixed with castor-oil, and applied by means of a [394]fowl’s feather to the navel. The infant’s head is shaved, except over the anterior fontanelle, the hair from which is removed after about a month. Its body is smeared all over daily with castor-oil and turmeric paste until it is a month old. The mother then goes with her baby and husband to her brother’s house, where the infant is presented with a fowl, which is taken home, and eaten by her husband. The appropriation of the fowl varies according to the locality. In some places, the infant’s father, and other relations, except the mother, may eat it, and, in others, both its parents, and relations living in the house, may do so. In still other places, the father, paternal grandfather and grandmother, and paternal uncle, may partake of it.

Of birth ceremonies, Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar provides the following account. During her confinement, the woman is assisted by an older Kondh midwife, who massages her abdomen with castor oil. The baby's umbilical cord is cut by the infant's mother. To do this, the baby's right thigh is bent towards its belly, and a piece of cooled charcoal is placed on its right knee. The cord is then set on the charcoal and cut with the sharp edge of an arrow. The placenta is buried close to the house, near a wall. After the cord is cut, the mother applies her saliva to the area around the baby’s navel and then covers it with castor oil. She warms her hands by the fire and uses them on the baby's body. [It is stated in the Ganjam Manual that the infant is held in front of a hot fire and is half roasted.] This warming process is repeated several times a day for four or five days. Once the umbilical cord falls off, a spider is burned to ashes over a fire, placed in a coconut shell, mixed with castor oil, and applied to the navel using a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]fowl's feather. The baby's head is shaved except for the area over the anterior fontanelle, and the hair from this spot is removed after about a month. Until the baby is a month old, its body is daily smeared with castor oil and turmeric paste. After that, the mother, her baby, and her husband visit her brother’s house, where the infant is presented with a fowl, which is taken home and eaten by her husband. The rules around who can eat the fowl vary by location. In some areas, only the baby's father and other relatives, excluding the mother, can eat it; in others, both parents and relatives living in the house may do so. In yet other places, the father, paternal grandfather and grandmother, and paternal uncle may partake of it.

The naming ceremony among the Kondhs of Gumsūr is thus described by Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson. “Six months after birth, on a fixed day, they make gāduthuva (the ceremony of naming the child). On that day, killing a dog, and procuring liquor, they make bāji. They wash the feet of the child. The Jāni being come, he ties a cord from the haft to the point of a sickle, and they divine by means of it. Having assembled the petrilu (literally ancestors, but here denoting household images or gods), they put rice on the sickle. As the names (of the ancestors or family?) are repeated in order, each time the rice is put on, that name is chosen on the mention of which the sickle moves, and is given to the child. They then drink liquor, and eat bāji. They give rice and flesh to the Jāni.”

The naming ceremony among the Kondhs of Gumsūr is described by Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson. “Six months after birth, on a set day, they hold gāduthuva (the naming ceremony). On that day, they slaughter a dog and get liquor to make bāji. They wash the child’s feet. When the Jāni arrives, he ties a cord from the handle to the tip of a sickle, and they use it for divination. After gathering the petrilu (literally ancestors, but in this context referring to household images or gods), they place rice on the sickle. As the names (of the ancestors or family?) are called out in order, each time rice is added, that name is chosen when the sickle moves, and it is assigned to the child. They then drink liquor and eat bāji. They give rice and meat to the Jāni.”

Of death ceremonies, the following account is given in the manual of the Ganjam district. “Immediately after death, a cloth is wrapped round the corpse, but no cloths or valuables are removed. A portion of paddy (unhusked rice), and all the cooking utensils of the deceased are [395]given to the village Sitra. [The Sitras manufacture the brass rings and bangles worn by the Kondhs.] The body is then burnt. On the following day, a little rice is cooked, put on a dish, and laid on the spot where the corpse was burnt. An incantation is then pronounced, requesting the spirit of the deceased person to eat the rice and enjoy itself, and not to change itself into a devil or tiger, and come bothering the survivors in the village. Three days after death, the madda ceremony is performed. An effigy of the deceased is prepared of straw, which is stuck up in front of or on the roof of the house, and the relations and friends assemble, lament, and eat at the expense of the people of the deceased’s house. Each person brings a present of some kind or other, and, on his departure on the next day, receives something of slightly higher value. The death of a man in a village requires a purification, which is made by the sacrifice of a buffalo on the seventh day after death. If a man is killed by a tiger, the purification is made by the sacrifice of a pig, the head of which, cut off with a tangi (axe) by a Pāno, is passed between the legs of the men in the village, who stand in a line astraddle. It is a bad omen for him if the head touches any man’s legs. If the Pātro attends a funeral, he gets a fee of a goat for firing his gun, to drive away the dead man’s ghost.” According to Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar, if a person is killed by a tiger, the head of the decapitated pig is placed in a stream, and, as it floats down, it has to pass between the legs of the villagers. If it touches the legs of any of them, it forebodes that he will be killed by a tiger.

Of death ceremonies, the following account is given in the manual of the Ganjam district. “Right after someone dies, a cloth is wrapped around the body, but no clothes or valuables are taken away. A portion of paddy (unhusked rice) and all the cooking utensils of the deceased are [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]given to the village Sitra. [The Sitras make the brass rings and bangles worn by the Kondhs.] The body is then cremated. The next day, a small amount of rice is cooked, placed on a dish, and set on the spot where the body was cremated. An incantation is then recited, asking the spirit of the deceased to eat the rice and find peace, and not to turn into a ghost or tiger that bothers the living in the village. Three days after death, the madda ceremony is held. An effigy of the deceased is made from straw and displayed in front of or on the roof of the house, where family and friends gather to mourn and eat at the expense of the deceased's family. Each guest brings a gift of some sort and, upon leaving the following day, receives something of slightly greater value. The death of a person in a village requires a purification ritual, which involves sacrificing a buffalo on the seventh day after death. If someone is killed by a tiger, purification is done by sacrificing a pig, whose head is chopped off with a tangi (axe) by a Pāno, and then passed between the legs of the men in the village standing in a line. It’s considered a bad omen if the head touches any man’s legs. If the Pātro attends a funeral, he gets a goat as payment for firing his gun to ward off the dead person's ghost.” According to Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar, if someone is killed by a tiger, the head of the decapitated pig is placed in a stream, and as it floats away, it must pass between the villagers' legs. If it touches anyone's legs, it is a sign that they will be killed by a tiger.

In a note on the death ceremonies in Gumsūr, Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson writes as follows. “On life ceasing, they tie a sheep to the foot of the corpse. They carry the clothes, brass eating-dish, brass drinking-vessel, [396]ornaments, grain in store, and the said sheep to the burning-ground. Having burned the body, and gone around about the pile, they leave all those things there, and, beating drums, return home. The garments the Pānos take away. They procure liquor, and drink it. They then go to their respective houses, and eat. On the next day, they kill a she-buffalo, and get together a great quantity of liquor. The whole of the tribe (near and distant relations) being assembled, they make bāji, and eat. They beat drums. If the deceased were of any consequence, dancers come and dance to the sound of the drums, to whom some animal is given, which they take, and go away. Subsequently, on the twelfth day, they carry a hog to the spot where the body was burned, and, after perambulating the site of the pyre, return to their home, where they kill a hog in the place set apart for their household gods, and, procuring liquor, make baji, the members of the tribe eating together. Should a tiger carry off any one, they throw out of doors all the (preserved) flesh belonging to him, and all the people of the village, not excepting children, quit their homes. The Jāni, being come with two rods of the tummeca tree (Acacia arabica), he plants these in the earth, and then, bringing one rod of the condatamara tree (Smilax macrophylla), he places it transversely across the other two. The Jāni, performing some incantation, sprinkles water on them. Beginning with the children, as these and the people pass through the passage so formed, the Jāni sprinkles water on them all. Afterwards, the whole of them go to their houses, without looking behind them.”

In a note about the death ceremonies in Gumsūr, Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson writes: “When someone passes away, they tie a sheep to the foot of the corpse. They carry the deceased's clothes, brass eating dish, brass drinking vessel, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] ornaments, stored grain, and the sheep to the cremation site. After burning the body and walking around the pyre, they leave all those items there and return home while beating drums. The Pānos take the garments. They get some liquor and drink it. Then, they go back to their houses and eat. The next day, they kill a she-buffalo and gather a large amount of liquor. The entire tribe (including close and distant relatives) comes together to make bāji and eat. They beat drums. If the deceased was significant, dancers come and perform while the drums are played, and they receive an animal as a gift, which they take with them as they leave. Later, on the twelfth day, they bring a hog to the place where the body was cremated, and after walking around the site of the pyre, they return home, where they kill another hog at the spot reserved for their household gods and, with some liquor, make bāji, sharing a meal together. If a tiger takes anyone, they throw out all the preserved meat that belonged to that person, and everyone in the village, including children, leaves their homes. The Jāni arrives with two rods from the tummeca tree (Acacia arabica), plants them in the ground, and then takes one rod from the condatamara tree (Smilax macrophylla) and places it across the other two. The Jāni performs an incantation and sprinkles water on them. Starting with the children, as they and the others pass through the opening formed by the rods, the Jāni sprinkles water on everyone. After that, they all go to their houses without looking back.”

In connection with customs observed in the event of death, Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar writes that “if a woman’s husband dies, she removes the beads from her neck, the [397]metal finger rings, ankle and wrist ornaments, and the ornament worn in the lobe of one ear, that worn in the lobe of the other ear being retained. These are thrown on the chest of the corpse, before it is cremated. The widow does not remove the ornaments worn in the helices of the ears, and in the alæ and septum of the nose. When a Khond dies, his body is cremated. The people in the house of the deceased are not allowed to cook their food on that or the next day, but are fed by their relations and friends in the village. On the day after death, rice and a fowl are cooked separately, put in big leaf cups, and placed on the spot where the corpse was burnt. The spirit of the deceased is invited to eat the meal, and asked not to do them any harm. On the third day, the relations bathe, and smear their heads with clay. An effigy of the deceased is made, and stuck up on the roof of the house. The practice of making an image of the deceased obtains among the Goomsūr Khonds, but, in some other places, is considered inauspicious. On the seventh day, a purificatory ceremony is gone through, and a buffalo killed, with which, and the indispensable liquor, the guests are entertained. At a village two miles from Baliguda, a boy, about sixteen years old, died. His gold ear-rings and silver bracelets were not removed, but burnt. His cloths were thrown on the pyre. Rāgi and other grains, paddy, etc., were placed near the funeral pyre, but not in the fire. The food-stuffs, and a buffalo, were divided among the Haddis, who are the servants of the headman (Pātro) of the muttah. They also took the remains of the jewels, recovered from the ashes after cremation.”

In relation to the customs observed when someone dies, Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar notes that “if a woman’s husband passes away, she takes off the beads from her neck, the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]metal rings on her fingers, and her ankle and wrist jewelry, as well as the earring from one lobe, while keeping the earring from the other lobe. These items are placed on the chest of the corpse before it is cremated. The widow doesn’t remove the jewelry worn in the crests of her ears, or in her nose piercings. When a Khond dies, their body is cremated. The family of the deceased cannot cook on that day or the next, but are fed by relatives and friends from the village. On the day after death, rice and a chicken are cooked separately, put in large leaf bowls, and placed where the body was cremated. The spirit of the deceased is invited to partake in the meal and asked not to bring harm to them. On the third day, the family bathes and applies clay to their heads. An effigy of the deceased is created and placed on the roof of the house. The practice of making a likeness of the deceased is observed among the Goomsūr Khonds, but in some areas, it is seen as unlucky. On the seventh day, a purification ceremony takes place, and a buffalo is killed, along with providing the necessary alcohol for the guests. In a village two miles from Baliguda, a sixteen-year-old boy died. His gold earrings and silver bracelets were not removed but were burned. His clothes were thrown on the pyre. Rāgi and other grains, rice, etc., were placed near the funeral pyre but not in the fire. The food and a buffalo were shared among the Haddis, who are the servants of the headman (Pātro) of the muttah. They also took the remains of the jewelry recovered from the ashes after cremation.”

It is recorded by Mr. F. Fawcett175 that “once after death, a propitiatory sacrifice is made of animals of the [398]deceased to the Pidāri Pitta (ancestor) for the sake of the deceased’s spirit, which, after this festive introduction to the shades, must take its chance. A curious ceremony, which I do not remember seeing noted anywhere, is performed the day after death. Some boiled rice and a small fowl are taken to the burning place. The fowl is split down the breast, and placed on the spot; it is afterwards eaten, and the soul is invoked to enter a new-Aborn child.”

It’s noted by Mr. F. Fawcett175 that “after death, a special sacrifice is made with animals of the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] deceased to the Pidāri Pitta (ancestor) for the sake of the deceased’s spirit, which, after this festive introduction to the afterlife, must take its chances. A curious ceremony, which I don’t remember seeing documented anywhere, happens the day after death. Some boiled rice and a small chicken are brought to the cremation site. The chicken is cut down the middle and placed there; it is later eaten, and the soul is called upon to enter a new-born child.”

The following note on a Kondh funeral dance in the Ganjam Māliahs is from the pen of an eye-witness.176 “The dead Pātro is, as usual, a hill Uriya, of ancient lineage, no less than that of the great totem of nola bompsa or the ancestral wood-pigeon that laid its eggs in the hollow of a bamboo, from which this family sprang. Various and most interesting are the totems of the Māliahs. In passing, I may mention another curious totem, that of the pea-fowl, two eggs of which a man brought home to his wife, who laid them in an earthen pot, and from them sprang a man-child, the progenitor of a famous family. But to return to the Pātro. Before sunset, mourned by his two wives, the younger and favourite one carrying a young child of light bamboo colour, he had been burnt, without much ceremony, in an open grassy spot, his ashes scattered to the four winds of heaven, and the spot marked by wooden posts driven deep into the soil. Not now would be celebrated the funeral obsequies, but a month hence on the accession of his eldest son, the future Pātro, a fair lad of eighteen years. As the day for the obsequies drew near, an unusual bustle filled the air. Potters from the low country arrived, and hundreds upon hundreds of [399]earthen pots of all sizes and shapes were turned, and piled in great heaps near the village. Huge buffaloes, unconscious of their approaching fate, lay tethered near, or wallowing in bovine luxury in a swamp hard by. Messengers had been sent far and near to all the Pātros, Molikos, and Bissoyis. Even the Kuttiya Khonds were not left out. The auspicious morning at length dawned, when a distinguished company began to arrive, each chief with his followers, and in many cases his wives and little children, all dressed in their best, and bent on enjoying everything to the utmost. I noticed fine stalwart men from Udiagiri on the edge of the ghauts, together with Khonds from more civilised Baliguda, and Khonds from cold and breezy Daringabadi, cheerful in spite of the numbers of their relatives that had found a horrid tomb inside a man-eating tiger that since 1886 (together with another ally lately started) had carried off more than four hundred of their kith and kin. Distinguished amongst even that wild horde for savagery were the Khonds from the Kuttiya country, who live on tops of hills, and whose women are seldom, if ever, seen. These are remarkable for their enormous quantities of frizzly hair tied in huge chignons over the right brow, and decorated with feathers of every hue—the jay, the parrot, the peacock and the white quills of the paddy-bird predominating. Their short, sturdy limbs are hung in every direction with necklaces and curious blue beads and cut agates, said to be dug out of ancient burial places and cromlechs in Central India. Certain it is that almost no inducement will prevail on a Khond to voluntarily part with these precious heirlooms. As each fresh detachment arrived, their first occupation was to go to a neighbouring tank (pond), and, after a wash and decoration of head and hair with either the orthodox [400]feathers, or, prettier still, with wreaths of wild flowers, to repair to the late chief’s house, and, presenting themselves at the door, condole, with much vigour of lungs, with the now less disconsolate widows on their recent loss. This ceremony over, they tendered their allegiance to the young son of the dead Pātro, permitted by Government to take his place, and each man received from him an earthen cooking-pot, and each circle of villages a buffalo. The Khond is a beef eater, but a curious custom prevails in some parts, that a married woman must abstain from the flesh of a cow. These preliminary ceremonies over, the crowd adjourned, with great noise of shouting, blowing of buffalo horns, and beating of drums, to the open grassy spot marked by posts, where the late Pātro had been burned, and where a recently killed buffalo, weltering in its gore, now lay. Among the throng of men, women and children, most of the former more than slightly elevated by drinking copious draughts of a kind of beer made from the kuhari grain, were three Khonds carrying long poles surmounted by huge bunches of peacock feathers that blazed in the sunlight like emeralds and sapphires. The funeral dance now commenced. The dance itself is simple in the extreme, for, when the right spot was reached, old men and young began gyrating round and round in a large circle, a perfect human merry-go-round. The old grey-beards, plodding slowly round the ring, and stamping on the soil with their aged feet, presented a great contrast to the younger and wilder men, who capered and pranced about, sometimes outside the circle, waving their tanghis in the air, and every now and then leaping up to the slain buffalo, and dipping their axes into its blood, and then back again, dancing more wildly than ever, round and round from west to east, till the [401]eye ached to behold the perpetual motion of this animated wheel. In the centre revolved the three men with the huge bunches of peacock feathers afore-mentioned. When any dropped out of the circle to rest there were many eager and willing to take their places, and so, with relays of fresh dancers, this human circle revolved on for three whole days, only ceasing at nightfall, when by large fires the various tribes cooked in the earthen pots provided the buffaloes presented by the new Pātro. In olden days, an animal was given to each village, but on this occasion only to a circle of villages, occasioning thereby certain grumblings among the wiseacres for the good old days of the past, when not only buffaloes in plenty, but Meriah human victims as well were lavishly provided and sacrificed. ‘Ichabod,’ said they in Khond, ‘the glory of the Māliahs hath departed.’ On the afternoon of the third day, the Pātros, Molikas, Bissoyis, and others of the great men began to depart with their retainers for their distant homes in the jungles, having had a thoroughly good time. The women, who had been very shy at first, fled at my approach, now, after three days’ familiarity with a white face, began to show symptoms of friendliness, so that they allowed me to go quite near to them to examine their pretty necklaces of coloured grasses, silver coins, and curious beads, and to count the numbers of small sticks (generally about twelve or fifteen) of broom that were arranged in the shape of a crescent round the outer edges of the pierced ears of each unmarried village belle, and to observe at close quarters the strange tattooed patterns in blue of zigzag and curve that to my eyes disfigured their otherwise comely faces. As to beauty of figure, I think very few can compare with a young and well-grown Khond maiden, with her straight back and handsome [402]proportions. It was, therefore, without much difficulty that I persuaded some of them to dance before me. Six buxom girls stepped out, all of them the respectable daughters of well-to-do Khonds, prepared to dance the famous peacock dance. Round their supple but massive waists was twisted the strip of national Khond cloth of blue, red and white, and for bodices what could be more becoming than their glossy brown skins of nature’s millinery, gracefully wreathed with garlands of coloured grasses and strings of gay beads. The polished jet black hair, neatly tied in a knot at the back, and decorated with pretty lacquered and silver combs, or with forest flowers, added yet more to their picturesque appearance. Each girl now took a long strip of white cloth, and, winding it round her waist, allowed one end to trail at the back in the fashion of a Liberty sash. This was supposed to represent the tail of the peacock. Three of the girls then faced the three others, and, with their left hands resting on their hips, and their elbows sticking out (to represent the wings), and the right arms extended in front with the fingers outstretched to simulate the neck and beak, began to dance to the ear-piercing shrieks of cracked trumpet, and to the deep beatings of a Māliah drum marking excellent time. On and on they danced, advancing and retiring, and now and then crossing over (not unlike the first figure of the quadrille), while their tinkling feet, ‘like little mice, stole in and out,’ the heels alternately clashing against each other, in exact time to the music, and the lips gracefully waving from side to side as they advanced or retired. There was perfect grace of movements combined with extreme modesty, the large expressive eyes veiled by the long lashes never once being raised, and the whole demeanour utterly oblivious [403]to the crowd of enthusiastic admirers that surrounded them on all sides. But for the wild scene around, the noise and shrieking of instruments, and the fantastic dresses of the Khonds (many of whom had buffalo horns tied on to their painted faces, or had decorated their heads with immense wigs of long black hair), one might easily have supposed these shrinking damsels to have been the pick of a Mission School specially selected for propriety to dance the South Indian kummi before, say, an itinerant Bishop of ascetic tendencies and æsthetic temperament. When their heaving, panting bodies showed that exhausted nature claimed them for her own, the man with the trumpet or the drum would rush up, and blow or beat it almost under their drooping heads, urging them with shouts and gesticulations to further energy, till at length the shades of night crept over the hills, and, with one accord, the dancing and the deafening music ceased, while the six girls stole quietly back and were soon lost in the crowd.”

The following note on a Kondh funeral dance in the Ganjam Māliahs is from the pen of an eye-witness.176 “The deceased Pātro is, as always, a hill Uriya from an ancient lineage, just like the great totem of nola bompsa or the ancestral wood-pigeon that laid its eggs in a bamboo hollow, from which this family originated. The totems of the Māliahs are diverse and fascinating. By the way, I should mention another interesting totem, that of the peacock, two eggs of which a man brought home to his wife, who placed them in an earthen pot, and from them came a son, the ancestor of a well-known family. But back to the Pātro. Before sunset, mourned by his two wives, the younger and favored one carrying a light bamboo-colored child, he had been cremated, without much ceremony, in an open grassy area, his ashes scattered to the four winds, and the spot marked by wooden posts driven deep into the ground. The funeral rites wouldn’t happen right away but would take place a month later upon the succession of his eldest son, the future Pātro, a handsome eighteen-year-old. As the day for the rites approached, an unusual activity filled the air. Potters from the low country arrived, and hundreds of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]earthen pots of all sizes and shapes were made and piled in great heaps near the village. Large buffaloes, unaware of their impending fate, lay tied nearby or lounging in a swamp. Messengers had been sent far and wide to all the Pātros, Molikos, and Bissoyis. Even the Kuttiya Khonds were included. The auspicious morning finally arrived when an esteemed group began to appear, each chief accompanied by his followers, and often his wives and young children, all dressed in their best and ready to enjoy everything to the fullest. I noticed strong men from Udiagiri on the edge of the ghauts, along with Khonds from more civilized Baliguda, and Khonds from the chilly Daringabadi, cheerful despite the number of their relatives who had met a grisly end inside a man-eating tiger that since 1886 (along with another recent ally) had taken more than four hundred of their people. Among that wild group, the Khonds from the Kuttiya country stood out for their savagery; they live on hilltops, and their women are rarely, if ever, seen. These people are notable for their huge frizzy hair tied in large chignons over their right brows, decorated with feathers of varying colors—the jay, the parrot, the peacock, and the white quills of the paddy-bird being the most prominent. Their short, sturdy limbs are adorned with necklaces and peculiar blue beads and cut agates, claimed to be excavated from ancient burial sites and cromlechs in Central India. It’s certain that almost nothing will convince a Khond to willingly part with these treasured heirlooms. As each new group arrived, their first task was to head to a nearby tank (pond) and, after washing and adorning their heads and hair with either traditional [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]feathers, or more attractively, with wreaths of wildflowers, to go to the deceased chief’s house, and, presenting themselves at the door, express their condolences, with great enthusiasm for the now less sorrowful widows concerning their recent loss. Once this ceremony concluded, they pledged their allegiance to the young son of the late Pātro, permitted by the government to assume his role, and each man received an earthen cooking pot, while each set of villages received a buffalo. The Khond is a beef eater, but a curious custom exists in some areas that married women must abstain from cow flesh. After these preliminary ceremonies, the crowd moved on, loud with shouting, blowing buffalo horns, and beating drums, to the open grassy area marked by posts, where the late Pātro had been cremated, and where a freshly killed buffalo lay, soaked in its gore. Among the gathering of men, women, and children, most of the men slightly elevated from drinking generous amounts of a type of beer made from kuhari grain, were three Khonds carrying long poles topped with large bunches of peacock feathers that shined in the sunlight like emeralds and sapphires. The funeral dance began. The dance was incredibly simple; when they reached the right spot, old men and young started to spin around in a large circle, a perfect human merry-go-round. The elderly men, slowly marching around the ring and stamping their aged feet into the ground, contrasted starkly with the younger, wilder men, who leaped and pranced about, sometimes outside the circle, waving their tanghis in the air, and occasionally jumping up to the slain buffalo to dip their axes in its blood before dancing back into the circle, becoming wilder as they went, circling from west to east, until the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]eye ached to watch the constant motion of this animated wheel. In the middle spun the three men with the large bunches of peacock feathers mentioned earlier. Whenever someone fell out of the circle to rest, eager volunteers quickly took their places, thus, with rotations of fresh dancers, this human circle revolved for three entire days, only stopping at nightfall, when by large fires, the various tribes cooked in the earthen pots provided by the buffaloes offered by the new Pātro. In the past, an animal was given to each village, but this time only to a group of villages, causing some complaints among the wise ones about the good old days of the past, when not only buffaloes in abundance but also Meriah human victims were generously provided and sacrificed. ‘Ichabod,’ they lamented in Khond, ‘the glory of the Māliahs has departed.’ On the afternoon of the third day, the Pātros, Molikas, Bissoyis, and other distinguished figures began to leave with their retainers for their distant homes in the jungles, having thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The women, who had been quite shy at first, ran away at my approach, but now, after three days of familiarity with a white face, began to show signs of friendliness, allowing me to get quite close to them to admire their beautiful necklaces made of colored grasses, silver coins, and interesting beads, and to count the number of small sticks (usually about twelve or fifteen) of broom arranged in a crescent shape around the outer edges of the pierced ears of each unmarried village beauty, and to observe up close the strange blue tattoo patterns of zigzags and curves that to my eyes disfigured their otherwise attractive faces. In terms of figure, very few can compare with a young, well-proportioned Khond maiden, with her straight back and appealing [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]proportions. Therefore, it was not difficult to persuade some of them to dance for me. Six plump girls stepped forward, all of them respectable daughters of prosperous Khonds, ready to perform the famous peacock dance. Around their supple but strong waists was wrapped the national Khond cloth in blue, red, and white, and for bodices, nothing could be more flattering than their glossy brown skin, naturally adorned with garlands of colored grasses and strings of bright beads. Their polished jet-black hair, neatly tied in a knot at the back, and decorated with pretty lacquered and silver combs, or with forest flowers, added to their picturesque look. Each girl took a long strip of white cloth, wound it around her waist, and let one end trail behind in the style of a Liberty sash, meant to represent the tail of the peacock. Three of the girls then faced the other three, and, with their left hands resting on their hips and their elbows out (to mimic the wings), and their right arms extended in front with fingers spread to emulate the neck and beak, began to dance to the piercing shrieks of cracked trumpets and the steady beat of a Māliah drum keeping excellent time. They danced continuously, stepping forward and backward, and occasionally crossing over (similar to the first figure of a quadrille), while their tinkling feet, ‘like little mice, stole in and out,’ the heels clashing in rhythm to the music, and their lips gracefully swaying from side to side as they advanced or retreated. There was perfect grace in their movements along with utter modesty, their large, expressive eyes, veiled by long lashes, never once raised, and their entire demeanor completely oblivious [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]to the crowd of enthusiastic admirers surrounding them. But for the wild scene around, the noise and shrieking of instruments, and the colorful costumes of the Khonds (many of whom had buffalo horns tied to their painted faces, or had adorned their heads with huge wigs of long black hair), one might easily have imagined these shy girls were the best from a Mission School specially selected for propriety, dancing the South Indian kummi before, say, an itinerant Bishop with ascetic tendencies and an aesthetic temperament. When their labored bodies indicated exhaustion, the man with the trumpet or drum would rush forward, blowing or beating it almost under their drooping heads, urging them with shouts and gestures to keep going, until finally, as dusk settled over the hills, everyone stopped dancing and the deafening music ceased, while the six girls quietly slipped back into the crowd.”

Of superstitions among the Kondhs, the following are recorded by Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar:—

Of superstitions among the Kondhs, the following are noted by Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar:—

“When a Kondh starts out on a shooting expedition, if he first meets an adult female, married or unmarried, he will return home, and ask a child to tell the females to keep out of his way. He will then make a fresh start, and, if he meets a female, will wave his hand to her as a sign that she must keep clear of him. Before a party start out for shooting, they warn the females not to come in their way. The Kondh believes that, if he sees a female, he will not come across animals in the jungle to shoot. If a woman is in her menses, her husband, brothers, and sons living under the same roof, will not go out shooting for the same reason. [404]

“When a Kondh sets out on a hunting trip, if he first encounters an adult female, whether she's married or single, he will go back home and ask a child to tell the women to stay away from him. He will then start over, and if he sees a woman, he will wave his hand at her to signal that she should keep her distance. Before a group goes out to hunt, they warn the women not to cross their path. The Kondh believes that if he sees a woman, he won’t find any animals in the jungle to hunt. If a woman is on her period, her husband, brothers, and sons who live in the same house will also refrain from going out to hunt for the same reason. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

A Kondh will not leave his village when a jāthra (festival) is being celebrated, lest the god Pennu should visit his wrath on him.

A Kondh won't leave his village during a jāthra (festival) because they fear that the god Pennu will bring his anger upon them.

They will not cut trees, which yield products suitable for human consumption, such as the mango, jāk, jambul (Eugenia Jambolana), or iluppai (Bassia) from which they distil a spirituous liquor. Even though these trees prevent the growth of a crop in the fields, they will not cut them down.

They won’t cut down trees that produce fruits suitable for people to eat, like mangoes, jāk, jambul (Eugenia Jambolana), or iluppai (Bassia), from which they make liquor. Even though these trees stop crops from growing in the fields, they won’t cut them down.

If an owl hoots over the roof of a house, or on a tree close thereto, it is considered unlucky, as foreboding a death in the family at an early date. If an owl hoots close to a village, but outside it, the death of one of the villagers will follow. For this reason, the bird is pelted with stones, and driven off.

If an owl hoots over the roof of a house or on a nearby tree, it's seen as unlucky, suggesting a family death is coming soon. If an owl hoots near a village but outside of it, one of the villagers is expected to die. Because of this, people throw stones at the bird to scare it away.

They will not kill a crow, as this would be a sin amounting to the killing of a friend. According to their legend, soon after the creation of the world there was a family consisting of an aged man and woman, and four children, who died one after the other in quick succession. Their parents were too aged to take the necessary steps for their cremation, so they threw the bodies away on the ground, at some distance from their home. God appeared to them in their dreams one night, and promised that he would create the crow, so that it might devour the dead bodies.

They won’t kill a crow, as doing so would be like killing a friend. According to their legend, shortly after the world was created, there was a family made up of an old man and woman and four children, who died one after another in rapid succession. Their parents were too old to properly cremate them, so they left the bodies on the ground, a little way from their home. One night, God appeared to them in their dreams and promised that he would create the crow to eat the dead bodies.

They do not consider it a sin to kill a Brahminy kite (Haliastur indus: Garuda pakshi), which is held in veneration throughout Southern India. A Kondh will kill it for so slight an offence as carrying off his chickens.

They don't see it as wrong to kill a Brahminy kite (Haliastur indus: Garuda pakshi), which is respected all over Southern India. A Kondh will kill it for something as minor as taking his chickens.

They will not cut the crops with a sickle with a serrated edge, such as is used by the Oriyas, but use a straight-edged knife. The crops, after they have been cut, are removed to the village, and threshed by hand, [405]and not with the help of cattle. While this is being done, strangers (Kondh or others) may not look on the crop, or speak to them, lest their evil eye should be cast on them. If a stranger is seen approaching near the threshing-floor, the Kondhs keep him off by signalling to him with their hands, without speaking. The serrated sickle is not used, because it produces a sound like that of cattle grazing, which would be unpropitious. If cattle were used in threshing the crop, it is believed that the earth god would feel insulted by the dung and urine of the animals.

They won't harvest the crops with a serrated sickle like the Oriyas do; instead, they'll use a straight-edged knife. Once the crops are cut, they're taken to the village and threshed by hand, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]instead of using cattle. During this process, outsiders (like the Kondh or others) are not allowed to look at the crops or talk to them, as it might bring bad luck. If a stranger gets too close to the threshing floor, the Kondhs will signal him to stay away with their hands, without saying anything. They avoid using the serrated sickle because it makes a noise similar to cattle grazing, which is considered unlucky. If cattle were used for threshing, it's thought that the earth god would be offended by the animals' dung and urine.

They believe that they can transform themselves into tigers or snakes, half the soul leaving the body and becoming changed into one of these animals, either to kill an enemy, or satisfy hunger by having a good feed on cattle in the jungle. During this period, they are believed to feel dull and listless, and disinclined for work, and, if a tiger is killed in the forest, they will die synchronously. Mr. Fawcett informs me that the Kondhs believe that the soul wanders during sleep. On one occasion, a dispute arose owing to a man discovering that another Kondh, whose spirit used to wander about in the guise of a tiger, ate up his spirit, and he became ill.

They think they can turn themselves into tigers or snakes, with half their soul leaving their body and becoming one of these animals, either to kill an enemy or satisfy their hunger by feasting on cattle in the jungle. During this time, they're said to feel sluggish and unmotivated, and if a tiger is killed in the forest, they will die at the same time. Mr. Fawcett tells me that the Kondhs believe the soul roams during sleep. Once, a conflict arose when one man found out that another Kondh, whose spirit would wander around as a tiger, devoured his spirit, and he became sick.

When cholera breaks out in a village, all males and females smear their bodies from head to foot with pig’s fat liquefied by heat, and continue to do so until a few days after the disappearance of the dread disease. During this time, they do not bathe, lest the smell of the fat should be washed away.”

When cholera occurs in a village, everyone covers their bodies from head to toe with melted pig fat and continues to do so for a few days after the disease is gone. During this time, they don't bathe, so the smell of the fat doesn't wash off.

The Kondhs are said177 to prevent the approach of the goddess of small-pox by barricading the paths with [406]thorns and ditches, and boiling caldrons of stinking oil. The leopard is looked upon in some way as a sacred beast by the Kondhs of the northern Māliahs. They object to a dead leopard being carried through their villages, and oaths are taken on a leopard’s skin.

The Kondhs are believed to ward off the goddess of smallpox by blocking the paths with [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] thorns and ditches, and heating cauldrons of foul-smelling oil. The leopard is regarded as a sacred animal by the Kondhs in the northern Māliahs. They strongly oppose carrying a dead leopard through their villages, and they take oaths on a leopard’s skin.

Referring to elf stones, or stones of the dead in European countries, to which needles, buttons, milk, eggs, etc., are offered, Mr. F. Fawcett describes178 a Kondh ceremony, in which the ground under a tree was cleared in the form of a square, within which were circles of saffron (turmeric), charcoal, rice, and some yellow powder, as well as an egg or a small chicken. A certain Kondh had fever caused by an evil spirit, and the ceremony was an invitation to it to come out, and go to another village.

Referring to elf stones, or stones of the dead in European countries, where offerings like needles, buttons, milk, eggs, and others are made, Mr. F. Fawcett describes178 a Kondh ceremony. In this ceremony, the area under a tree was cleared into a square shape, within which there were circles of saffron (turmeric), charcoal, rice, and some yellow powder, along with an egg or a small chicken. A particular Kondh was suffering from a fever caused by an evil spirit, and the ceremony was meant to invite the spirit to leave and go to another village.

The following account of a cow-shed sacrifice is given by Mr. Fawcett.179 “A special liquor is brewed from grain for the ceremony, on the first day of which there is a general fast, a pig is bought by general subscription, and dragged to the place where it is to be sacrificed by a rope ‘through its belly.’ The pig is stoned to death, but, ere it dies, each Khond cuts off some of the hair and a little piece of the ear, which are treasured. The meat is divided among them, and cooked with rice. The priest goes from house to house, and performs the ceremony of the cow-shed. The ropes of the cattle (chiefly buffaloes) which are out grazing are tied to the central point in the cow-shed, and the other ends are laid on the ground across the shed. These ropes are the visible objects, to which sacrifice is made. The head of a chicken is buried near the ends tied to the post, and near it are ranged leaves, on which are placed [407]rice, flesh of the pig, and a bit of its ear. A little in front of these is buried a rotten egg. The chicken, whose head is buried, is boiled, and eaten by children who have not yet donned a cloth. The Khond puts the rice, piece of the ear, and the hair of the pig, under the roof. In the evening the cattle come home, and are tied by the ropes used in the ceremony. Then the women break their fast—they must eat then. Drinking and dancing occupy the two following days, during which no manure is removed from the cow-shed. On the third day, the Khonds come out with a lump of it in the hand, and throw it in one place, forming a heap, on which the priest pours liquor and rice.”

The following account of a cow-shed sacrifice is given by Mr. Fawcett.179 “A special liquor is made from grain for the ceremony. On the first day, there is a general fast, a pig is purchased through community contributions, and it’s dragged to the sacrifice site by a rope ‘through its belly.’ The pig is stoned to death, but before it dies, each Khond cuts off some hair and a small piece of the ear, which they keep as tokens. The meat is shared among them and cooked with rice. The priest visits each house and performs the cow-shed ceremony. The ropes of the cattle (mostly buffaloes) grazing outside are tied to a central point in the cow-shed, and the other ends are laid across the shed. These ropes are the visible objects of the sacrifice. The head of a chicken is buried near the ends tied to the post, and surrounding it are leaves on which are placed [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] rice, pig meat, and a bit of its ear. A rotten egg is buried a little in front of these. The chicken, whose head is buried, is boiled and eaten by children who haven’t yet worn a cloth. The Khond places the rice, piece of the ear, and pig hair under the roof. In the evening, the cattle return and are tied using the ropes from the ceremony. Then the women break their fast—they must eat at that time. Drinking and dancing fill the next two days, during which no manure is removed from the cow-shed. On the third day, the Khonds come out holding a lump of it in their hands and throw it in one spot, forming a heap, on which the priest pours liquor and rice.”

The following example of a Kondh oath is given by Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson. “The subject of the circumstance is first repeated by the swearing party, and a basket containing the following things is held before him:—

The following example of a Kondh oath is given by Mr. J. A. R. Stevenson. “The person taking the oath first repeats the subject of the situation, and a basket containing the following items is held in front of him:—

  • A blood-sucker (lizard).
  • A bit of tiger’s skin.
  • A peacock’s feather.
  • Earth from a ‘white-ant’ hill.
  • Rice mixed with fowl’s blood.
  • A lighted lamp.

He proceeds with his oath, touching each object in the basket at that part of the oath which refers to that object. ‘Oh! father (god), I swear, and, if I swear falsely, then, Oh! father, may I become shrivelled and dry like a blood-sucker, and thus die. May I be killed by a tiger. May I crumble to dust like this white-ant’s hill. May I be blown about like this feather. May I be extinguished like this lamp.’ In saying the last words, he puts a few grains of rice in his mouth, and blows out the lamp, and the basket with its contents is made to touch the top of his head.” [408]

He continues with his oath, touching each item in the basket at the part of the oath that relates to that item. “Oh! father (god), I swear, and if I swear falsely, then, Oh! father, may I become shriveled and dry like a bloodsucker, and thus die. May I be killed by a tiger. May I crumble to dust like this ant hill. May I be blown away like this feather. May I be extinguished like this lamp.” As he says the last words, he puts a few grains of rice in his mouth and blows out the lamp, and the basket with its contents touches the top of his head.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In 1904, a case illustrating the prevailing belief in witchcraft occurred in the Vizagapatam hill tracts. The youngest of three brothers died of fever, and, when the body was cremated, the fire failed to consume the upper portion. The brothers concluded that death must have been caused by the witchcraft of a certain Kondh. They accordingly attacked him, and killed him. After death, the brothers cut the body in half, and dragged the upper half to their own village, where they attempted to nail it up on the spot where their deceased brother’s body failed to burn. The accused were arrested on the spot, with the fragment of the Kondh’s corpse. They were sentenced to death, and the sentence was confirmed by the High Court.180

In 1904, a case highlighting the widespread belief in witchcraft took place in the Vizagapatam hill tracts. The youngest of three brothers died from a fever, and when they cremated the body, the fire didn't completely burn the upper part. The brothers concluded that a witch named Kondh was responsible for the death. They then attacked and killed him. Afterward, they cut Kondh's body in half and dragged the upper half back to their village, where they tried to nail it to the spot where their brother's body hadn't been fully consumed by the fire. The brothers were arrested on the scene along with the body part. They were sentenced to death, and the High Court upheld the sentence.180

In 1906, a Kondh, suspecting a Pāno girl of having stolen some cloths and a silver ornament from him, went to the dhengada house in Sollagodo, where the girl slept with other unmarried girls, and took her to his village, where he confined her in his house. On the following day, he took her to an Oriya trader, who thrashed her, in order to make her confess to the theft. Subsequently, some of the villagers collected to see her undergo the ordeal of boiling water. A pot nearly full of water was boiled, some cow-dung and sacred rice added, and a rupee placed in the pot. The girl was ordered to take out the rupee. This she did three times, but, on the fourth occasion, the water scalded her hand and forearm. She was then ordered to pay as a fine her ear-ring, which was worth one rupee. This she did, as it was the custom for an unsuccessful person to hand over some property. Her right hand was practically destroyed as the result of the scalding. An elderly Pātro (headman) [409]deposed that the ordinary practice in trials of this sort is to place two pots of water, one boiling and the other cold. In the boiling water a rupee and some rice are placed, and the suspected person has to take out the rupee once, and should then dip his hand in the cold water. If the hand is then scalded, the person is considered guilty, and has to pay a fine to the caste.

In 1906, a Kondh, believing a Pāno girl had stolen some cloth and a silver ornament from him, went to the dhengada house in Sollagodo, where the girl slept with other unmarried girls, and took her to his village, where he kept her locked up in his house. The next day, he took her to an Oriya trader, who beat her to force a confession about the theft. After that, some villagers gathered to witness her face the ordeal of boiling water. A pot filled nearly to the brim with water was boiled, and cow dung and sacred rice were added, along with a rupee placed in the pot. The girl was told to retrieve the rupee. She managed to do this three times, but on the fourth try, the hot water burned her hand and forearm. She was then required to pay a fine in the form of her earring, which was worth one rupee. She complied, as it was customary for an unsuccessful individual to give up some property. Her right hand was nearly destroyed due to the burns. An elderly Pātro (headman) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] testified that the usual practice in such trials involves using two pots of water, one boiling and the other cold. In the boiling water, a rupee and some rice are added, and the accused has to retrieve the rupee once and then dip their hand in the cold water. If their hand is scalded afterward, they are deemed guilty and must pay a fine to the caste.

In trial by immersion in water, the disputants dive into a pool, and he who can keep under water the longest is considered to be in the right. On one occasion, some years ago, when two villages were disputing the right of possession of a certain piece of land, the Magistrate resorted to a novel method to settle the dispute. He instituted a tug-of-water between an equal number of representatives of the contending parties. The side which won took possession of the disputed property, to the satisfaction of all.181

In a trial by immersion, the people involved dive into a pool, and whoever can stay underwater the longest is deemed to be correct. A few years ago, when two villages were arguing over a specific piece of land, the Magistrate came up with a unique way to resolve the issue. He set up a tug-of-war in the water with an equal number of representatives from each side. The team that won gained possession of the disputed land, which satisfied everyone. 181

In connection with sacred rice, which has been referred to above, reference may be made to the custom of Mahaprasād Songatho. “It is prevalent among the Khonds and other hill tribes of Ganjam and Orissa, and is found among the Oriyas. Sangatho means union or friendship. Mahaprasād Songatho is friendship sworn by mahaprasād, i.e., cooked rice consecrated to god Jagannath of Puri. The remains of the offering are dried and preserved. All pilgrims visiting Puri invariably get a quantity of this mahaprasād, and freely distribute it to those who ask for it. It is regarded as a sacred thing, endowed with supreme powers of forgiving the sins and wrongs of men by mere touch. It is not only holy itself, but also sanctifies everything done in its presence. It is believed that one dare not [410]commit a foul deed, utter a falsehood, or even entertain an evil thought, when it is held in the hands. On account of such beliefs, witnesses in law suits (especially Oriyas) are asked to swear by it when giving evidence. Mahaprasād Songatho is sworn friendship between two individuals of the same sex. Instances are on record of friendship contracted between a wealthy and cultured townsman and a poor village rustic, or between a Brāhmin woman of high family and a Sūdra servant. Songatho is solemnised with some ceremonies. On an auspicious day fixed for the purpose, the parties to the Songatho, with their relatives, friends and well-wishers, go to a temple in procession to the festive music of flutes and drum. There, in that consecrated place, the would-be friends take a solemn oath, with the god before them, mahaprasād in their hands, and the assemblage to witness that they will be lifelong friends, in spite of any changes that might come over them or their families. The ceremony closing, there will be dinners, gifts and presents on both sides, and the day is all mirth and merriment. Thus bound by inseparable ties of friendship, they live to the end of their lives on terms of extreme intimacy and affection. They seize every opportunity of meeting, and living in each other’s company. They allow no festival to pass without an exchange of new cloths, and other valuable presents. No important ceremony is gone through in any one’s house without the other being invited. Throughout the year, they will send each other the various fruits and vegetables in their respective seasons. If one dies, his or her family does not consider the bond as having been snapped, but continues to look upon the other more or less in the same manner as did the deceased. The survivor, if in need of help, is sure to receive [411]assistance and sympathy from the family of the deceased friend. This is how the institution is maintained by the less civilised Oriyas of the rural parts. The romance of the Songatho increases with the barbarity of the tribe. The Khonds, and other hill tribes, furnish us with an example of Songatho, which retains all its primitive simplicity. Among them, Songatho is ideal friendship, and examples of Damon and Pythias are not rare. A Khond has been known to ruin himself for the sake of his friend. He willingly sacrifices all that he has, and even his life, to protect the interests of his friend. The friends have nothing but affection for each other.”182

In relation to sacred rice mentioned earlier, we can discuss the custom of Mahaprasād Songatho. This practice is common among the Khonds and other hill tribes in Ganjam and Orissa, and it also exists among the Oriyas. Sangatho means union or friendship. Mahaprasād Songatho represents a friendship that is pledged through mahaprasād, meaning cooked rice that has been blessed by god Jagannath of Puri. The leftover offering is dried and kept. All pilgrims visiting Puri usually obtain some of this mahaprasād and share it freely with those who ask. It's considered sacred and is believed to have the power to forgive people's sins simply by being touched. Not only is it holy, but it also blesses everything done around it. It's thought that no one can commit a wrongful act, tell a lie, or even think an evil thought while holding it. Because of such beliefs, witnesses in legal cases (especially Oriyas) are asked to swear on it when giving testimony. Mahaprasād Songatho signifies a sworn friendship between two individuals of the same gender. There are records of friendships formed between a wealthy, educated city dweller and a poor villager, or between a high-born Brāhmin woman and a Sūdra servant. Songatho involves certain ceremonies. On an auspicious day selected for the ceremony, the friends-to-be, along with their relatives, friends, and supporters, go to a temple in a procession accompanied by festive flute and drum music. In this sacred space, the future friends take a solemn oath, with the god as their witness, mahaprasād in their hands, and the gathering as witnesses that they will be lifelong friends, despite any changes that may occur in their lives or families. After the ceremony, there are shared meals, gifts, and presents, making the day full of joy and celebration. Thus bonded by strong ties of friendship, they maintain a close and affectionate relationship throughout their lives. They seize every chance to meet and spend time together, ensuring that no festival passes without exchanging new clothes and other valuable gifts. No significant ceremony is held at one’s home without inviting the other. Throughout the year, they exchange various fruits and vegetables according to the seasons. If one of them dies, their family does not see the bond as broken but continues to regard the other as they did the deceased. The survivor, if in need, can expect help and support from the family of the deceased friend. This is how the tradition is upheld by the less urbanized Oriyas in rural areas. The essence of Songatho grows with the simpler lifestyle of the tribes. The Khonds and other hill tribes provide a clear example of Songatho, which maintains its primitive simplicity. Among them, Songatho symbolizes true friendship, and stories reminiscent of Damon and Pythias are common. A Khond is known to risk everything for their friend. They willingly sacrifice all they have, even their lives, to safeguard their friend’s interests. The friends share nothing but love for one another.

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district, that “the Khonds steal cattle, especially those belonging to Brinjāri gangs, in an open manner, for the sake of their flesh. In 1898, at Veppiguda near Gudāri a party of them attacked four constables who were patrolling the country to check these thefts, thrashed them, and carried off all their property and uniforms. Efforts to arrest these men resulted in the inhabitants of their village fleeing to the hills, and, for a time, it looked as if there was danger of others joining them, and of the Khonds going out. In 1882, the Khonds of Kālahandi State rose against the Uriyas, and murdered some hundreds of them. Luckily the invitation to join them, conveyed by the circulation of the head, fingers, hair, etc., of an early victim, was not accepted by the Khonds of this district.” The news of the rising was conveyed to Mr. H. G. Prendergast, Assistant Superintendent of Police, by a Domb disguised as a fakir, who carried the report concealed in his languti (cloth). He [412]was rewarded with a silver bangle. At a meeting held at the village of Balwarpur, it was decided that the Kultas should all be killed and swept out of the country. As a sign of this, the Kondhs carried brooms about. At Asurgarh the police found four headless corpses, and learnt from the widows all that they had to say about the atrocities. The murders had been committed in the most brutal way. All the victims were scalped while still alive, and one had an arm and a leg cut off before being scalped. As each victim died, his death was announced by three taps on a drum given slowly, followed by shouting and dancing. The unfortunate men were dragged out of their houses, and killed before their women and children. Neither here nor anywhere else were the women outraged, though they were threatened with death to make them give up buried treasure. One woman was in this way made to dig up a thousand rupees. On a tamarind tree near the village of Billat, affixed to it as a trophy, there was the scalped head of a Kulta, hacked about in the most horrible way.183

It is noted in the Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district that “the Khonds openly steal cattle, particularly from Brinjāri gangs, for their meat. In 1898, at Veppiguda near Gudāri, a group of them attacked four constables who were patrolling the area to prevent these thefts, beat them up, and took all their belongings and uniforms. Attempts to arrest these individuals led to the villagers fleeing to the hills, and for a while, it seemed there was a risk of others joining them and the Khonds going out. In 1882, the Khonds of Kālahandi State revolted against the Uriyas and killed several hundred of them. Fortunately, the call to join them, conveyed by the display of a head, fingers, hair, etc., of an earlier victim, was not heeded by the Khonds in this district.” The news of the uprising was relayed to Mr. H. G. Prendergast, Assistant Superintendent of Police, by a Domb disguised as a fakir, who concealed the report in his languti (cloth). He [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]was rewarded with a silver bangle. At a meeting held in the village of Balwarpur, it was decided that all the Kultas should be killed and driven out of the area. As a symbol of this, the Kondhs carried brooms around. At Asurgarh, the police discovered four headless bodies and learned from the widows about the atrocities that had taken place. The murders were carried out in an extremely brutal manner. All the victims were scalped while still alive, and one had an arm and a leg cut off before being scalped. As each victim died, his death was signaled by three slow taps on a drum, followed by shouting and dancing. The unfortunate men were dragged from their homes and killed in front of their women and children. Neither here nor anywhere else were the women assaulted, although they were threatened with death to force them to reveal hidden treasure. One woman was coerced into digging up a thousand rupees. On a tamarind tree near the village of Billat, there was the scalped head of a Kulta, gruesomely mutilated, displayed as a trophy.183

The fact is noted by Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar that the Kondh system of notation is duodecimal. Thirteen is twelve and one, forty three twelves and four, and so forth.

Mr. Jayaram Moodaliar points out that the Kondh system of notation is based on twelves. Thirteen is twelve plus one, forty-three is three twelves and four, and so on.

Kondh Bibliography.

Kondh Bibliography.

Aborigines of the Eastern Ghâts. Journ. Asiat. Soc. Bengal, XXV, 39–52, 1856.

Aborigines of the Eastern Ghâts. Journ. Asiat. Soc. Bengal, XXV, 39–52, 1856.

Caldwell, R. Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian or South Indian Family of Languages, 2nd edn., appendix, 516–17, 1875. [413]

Caldwell, R. Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian or South Indian Family of Languages, 2nd edn., appendix, 516–17, 1875. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Campbell, G. Specimens of Languages of India, including those of the Aboriginal Tribes of Bengal, the Central Provinces and the Eastern Frontier, 95–107, 1904, Calcutta.

Campbell, G. Samples of Languages from India, including those of the Indigenous Tribes of Bengal, the Central Provinces, and the Eastern Frontier, 95–107, 1904, Calcutta.

Campbell, Major-General. Personal Narrative of Service amongst the Wild Tribes of Khondistan, 1864.

Campbell, Major-General. Personal Narrative of Service among the Wild Tribes of Khondistan, 1864.

Dalton, E. T. Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, 285–301, 1872.

Dalton, E. T. Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, 285–301, 1872.

Duff, Rev. A. The First Series of Government Measures for the Abolition of Human Sacrifices among the Khonds. Selections from the Calcutta Review, 194–257, 1845–6.

Duff, Rev. A. The First Series of Government Measures for the Abolition of Human Sacrifices among the Khonds. Selections from the Calcutta Review, 194–257, 1845–6.

Fawcett, F. Miscellaneous Notes. Journ., Anthrop. Soc., Bombay, II, 247–51.

Fawcett, F. Miscellaneous Notes. Journ., Anthrop. Soc., Bombay, II, 247–51.

Francis, W. Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam District, Vol. I, 1907.

Francis, W. Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam District, Vol. I, 1907.

Friend-Pereira, J. E. Marriage Customs of the Khonds. Journ., Asiat. Soc. Bengal, LXXI, part III, 18–28, 1903.

Friend-Pereira, J. E. Marriage Customs of the Khonds. Journ., Asiat. Soc. Bengal, LXXI, part III, 18–28, 1903.

Friend-Pereira, J. E. Totemism among the Khonds. Journ., Asiat. Soc., Bengal, LXXIII, Part III, 39–56, 1905.

Friend-Pereira, J. E. Totemism among the Khonds. Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Volume LXXIII, Part III, Pages 39–56, 1905.

Frye, Captain. Dialogues and Sentences in the Kondh Language, with an English translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Dialogues and Sentences in the Kondh Language, with an English translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Fables in the Kondh Language, with an English translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Fables in the Kondh Language, with an English translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Fables in the Kondh Language, with an Oriya translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Fables in the Kondh Language, with an Oriya translation, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. The History of Joseph in the Kui or Kondh Language, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. The History of Joseph in the Kui or Kondh Language, 1851, Cuttack.

Frye, Captain. Primer and Progressive Reading Lessons in the Kondh Language, with an Oriya translation, 1851, Cuttack. [414]

Frye, Captain. Primer and Progressive Reading Lessons in the Kondh Language, with an Oriya translation, 1851, Cuttack. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Frye, Lieut. J. P. On the Uriya and Kondh Population of Orissa. Journ., Roy. Asiat. Soc. of Great Britain and Ireland, XVII, 1–38, 1860.

Frye, Lieut. J. P. On the Uriya and Kondh Population of Orissa. Journ., Roy. Asiat. Soc. of Great Britain and Ireland, XVII, 1–38, 1860.

Grierson, G. A. Linguistic Survey of India, IV, 457–71, 1906.

Grierson, G. A. Linguistic Survey of India, IV, 457–71, 1906.

History of the Rise and Progress of the Operations for the Suppression of Human Sacrifice and Female Infanticide in the Hill tracts of Orissa. Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Home Department) No. V, 1854, Calcutta.

History of the Rise and Progress of the Efforts to End Human Sacrifice and Female Infanticide in the Hill Areas of Orissa. Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Home Department) No. V, 1854, Calcutta.

Hunter, W. W. Orissa II, 67–100, 1872.

Hunter, W. W. Orissa II, 67–100, 1872.

Huttmann, G. H. Lieut. Macpherson’s Report upon the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack. Calcutta Review, VIII, 1–51, 1847.

Huttmann, G. H. Lieutenant Macpherson’s Report on the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack. Calcutta Review, VIII, 1–51, 1847.

Huttmann, G. H. Captain Macpherson’s Report upon the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack. Calcutta Review, X, 273–341, 1848.

Huttmann, G. H. Captain Macpherson’s Report on the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack. Calcutta Review, X, 273–341, 1848.

Lingum Letchmajee. Introduction to the Grammar of the Kui or Kondh Language, 2nd edn., 1902, Calcutta.

Lingum Letchmajee. Introduction to the Grammar of the Kui or Kondh Language, 2nd ed., 1902, Calcutta.

Macpherson, Captain S. C. An account of the Religious Opinions and Observances of the Khonds of Goomsūr and Boad. Journ., Roy. Asiat. Soc. of Great Britain and Ireland, VII, 172–99, 1843.

Macpherson, Captain S. C. A record of the religious beliefs and practices of the Khonds of Goomsūr and Boad. Journal, Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, VII, 172–99, 1843.

Macpherson, Captain S. C. An account of the Religion of the Khonds in Orissa. Journ., Roy. Asiat. Soc. of Great Britain and Ireland, XIII, 216–74, 1852.

Macpherson, Captain S. C. A look at the religion of the Khonds in Orissa. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, XIII, 216–74, 1852.

Macpherson, Lieut. Report upon the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack, 1863, Madras.

Macpherson, Lieut. Report on the Khonds of the Districts of Ganjam and Cuttack, 1863, Madras.

Maltby, T. J. Ganjam District Manual, 65–87, 1882.

Maltby, T. J. Ganjam District Manual, 65–87, 1882.

Rice, S. P. Occasional Essays on Native South Indian Life, 97–102, 1901.

Rice, S. P. Occasional Essays on Native South Indian Life, 97–102, 1901.

Risley, H. H. The Tribes and Castes of Bengal, I, 397–413. 1891. [415]

Risley, H. H. The Tribes and Castes of Bengal, I, 397–413. 1891. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Smith, Major J. McD. Practical Handbook of the Khond Language, 1876, Cuttack.

Smith, Major J. McD. Practical Handbook of the Khond Language, 1876, Cuttack.

Taylor, Rev. W. On the Language, Manners, and Rites of the Khonds or Khoi Jati of the Goomsūr Mountains from documents furnished by J. A. R. Stevenson. Madras Journ. Lit. and Science, VI, 17–46, 1837.

Taylor, Rev. W. On the Language, Manners, and Rites of the Khonds or Khoi Jati of the Goomsūr Mountains from documents provided by J. A. R. Stevenson. Madras Journ. Lit. and Science, VI, 17–46, 1837.

Taylor, Rev. W. Some Additional Notes on the Hill Inhabitants of the Goomsūr Mountains. Madras Journ., Lit. and Science, VII, 89–104, 1838.

Taylor, Rev. W. Some Additional Notes on the Hill Inhabitants of the Goomsūr Mountains. Madras Journ., Lit. and Science, VII, 89–104, 1838.

Kondra.—The Kondras or Kondoras are a fishing caste in Ganjam, who fish in ponds, lakes, rivers, and backwaters, but are never engaged in sea-fishing. It has been suggested that the name is derived from konkoda, a crab, as they catch crabs in the Chilka lake, and sell them. The Kondras rank very low in the social scale, and even the Haddis refuse to beat drums for them, and will not accept partially boiled rice, which they have touched. In some places, the members of the caste call themselves Dāsa Dīvaro, and claim descent from the boatmen who rowed the boat when King Bharatha went to Chithrakutam, to inform Rāma of the death of Dasaratha. Apparently the caste is divided into two endogamous sections, viz., Macha Kondras, who follow the traditional occupation of fishing, and Dandāsi Khondras, who have taken to the duties of village watchmen. As examples of septs or bamsams, the following may be cited:—kāko (crow), bilva (jackal), gaya (cow), kukkiriya (dogs), ghāsia (grass), bholia (wild dog), sanguna (vulture). A few said that reverence is paid to the animals after which the bamsam is named before the marriage ceremonies, but this was denied by others. The headman of the caste is styled Bēhara, and he is assisted by the Dolobēhara and Bhollobaya. There is also a caste [416]messenger called Chattia. The Bēhara receives a fee of a rupee on occasions of marriage, and one anna for death ceremonies.

Kondra.—The Kondras or Kondoras are a fishing community in Ganjam that fish in ponds, lakes, rivers, and backwaters, but they never engage in sea fishing. It's believed that their name comes from "konkoda," which means crab, as they catch crabs in Chilka Lake and sell them. The Kondras have a very low social status, and even the Haddis refuse to play drums for them or eat partially boiled rice that they've touched. In some areas, members of this community refer to themselves as Dāsa Dīvaro and claim to be descended from the boatmen who rowed King Bharatha to Chithrakutam to inform Rāma about Dasaratha's death. The community is divided into two endogamous groups: Macha Kondras, who traditionally fish, and Dandāsi Khondras, who have taken on the roles of village watchmen. Examples of septs or bamsams include: kāko (crow), bilva (jackal), gaya (cow), kukkiriya (dogs), ghāsia (grass), bholia (wild dog), and sanguna (vulture). Some say that respect is shown to the animals after which the bamsam is named before marriage ceremonies, but others deny this. The leader of the community is called Bēhara, assisted by the Dolobēhara and Bhollobaya. There is also a caste messenger known as Chattia. The Bēhara receives a fee of one rupee for weddings and one anna for funerals.

Girls are married either before or after puberty. Sometimes a girl is married in performance of a vow to the sahada (Streblus asper) tree. The ground round the tree is cleaned, a new cloth is then tied round the trunk, and a bow and arrow are rested against it. The Bēhara officiates as priest, and on behalf of the girl, places near the tree twelve handfuls or measures of rice and twelve of dāl (peas: Cajanus indicus), and twelve pieces of string on a leaf, as provisions for the bridegroom. If the girl has not reached maturity, she must remain seven days near the tree; otherwise she remains four days. On the last day, the Bēhara, sitting close to the tree, says: “We have given you provisions for twelve years. Give us a tsado-patra (deed of separation).” This is written on a palmyra leaf, and thrown down near the tree.

Girls are married either before or after puberty. Sometimes a girl is married as part of a vow to the sahada (Streblus asper) tree. The ground around the tree is cleaned, a new cloth is tied around the trunk, and a bow and arrow are placed against it. The Bēhara serves as the priest, and on behalf of the girl, he prepares twelve handfuls or measures of rice, twelve of dāl (peas: Cajanus indicus), and twelve pieces of string on a leaf as offerings for the bridegroom. If the girl is not yet mature, she must stay by the tree for seven days; otherwise, she stays for four days. On the last day, the Bēhara, sitting close to the tree, says: “We have provided for you for twelve years. Give us a tsado-patra (deed of separation).” This is written on a palmyra leaf and thrown down near the tree.

The dead are cremated, and the corpses of both men and women are said to be placed face downwards on the pyre. Among many other castes, only those of women are placed in this position. The death ceremonies are similar to those observed by many Oriya castes. A bit of bone is removed from the burning-ground, and food offered to it daily until the tenth day, when all the agnates, as well as the brothers-in-law and sons-in-law of the deceased, are shaved. The sons of the sister of the dead person are also expected to be shaved if they are fatherless; but, if their father is alive, they are shaved on the following day.

The dead are cremated, and the bodies of both men and women are said to be placed face down on the pyre. Among many other castes, only women's bodies are placed in this position. The death ceremonies are similar to those followed by many Oriya castes. A small piece of bone is removed from the cremation site, and food is offered to it every day until the tenth day, when all the close relatives, as well as the brothers-in-law and sons-in-law of the deceased, are shaved. The sons of the deceased person's sister are also expected to be shaved if they don’t have a father; however, if their father is alive, they are shaved the next day.

The Kondras regard Ganga-dēvi as their caste deity, but worship also other deities, e.g., Chāmunda, Buddhi, and Kālika. [417]

The Kondras see Ganga-dēvi as their community goddess, but they also worship other gods, like Chāmunda, Buddhi, and Kālika. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Konga.—Konga or Kongu is a territorial term, meaning inhabitant of the Kongu country. It has, at recent times of census, been returned as a division of a large number of classes, mostly Tamil, which include Ambattan, Kaikōlan, Kammālan, Kūravan, Kusavan, Malayan, Oddē, Pallan, Paraiyan, Shānān, Uppara, and Vellāla. It is used as a term of abuse among the Badagas of the Nīlgiri hills. Those, for example, who made mistakes in matching Holmgren’s wools, were scornfully called Konga by the onlookers. Similarly, in parts of the Tamil country, a tall, lean and stupid individual is called a Kongan.

Konga.—Konga or Kongu is a term that refers to someone from the Kongu region. In recent census data, it's been categorized into a wide range of groups, mostly Tamil, including Ambattan, Kaikōlan, Kammālan, Kūravan, Kusavan, Malayan, Oddē, Pallan, Paraiyan, Shānān, Uppara, and Vellāla. Among the Badagas in the Nīlgiri hills, it’s often used as an insult. For instance, those who messed up while matching Holmgren’s wools were derisively called Konga by onlookers. Similarly, in some parts of Tamil Nadu, a tall, skinny, and foolish person is referred to as a Kongan.

Konga Vellāla.—For the following note on the Konga Vellālas of the Trichinopoly district, I am indebted to Mr. F. R. Hemingway. They seem to have little in common with the other Vellālas, except their name, and appear to hold a lower position in society, for Reddis will not eat with them, and they will dine with Tottiyans and others of the lower non-Brāhman castes. They live in compact communities, generally in hamlets. Their dwellings are generally thatched huts, containing only one room. They are cultivators, but not well off. Their men can generally be recognized by the number of large gold rings which they wear in the lobes of the ears, and the pendant (murugu), which hangs from the upper part of the ears. Their women have a characteristic tāli (marriage badge) of large size, strung on to a number of cotton threads, which are not, as among other castes, twisted together. They also seem always to wear an ornament called tāyittu, rather like the common cylindrical talisman, on the left arm.

Konga Vellāla.—For the following note on the Konga Vellālas of the Trichinopoly district, I owe thanks to Mr. F. R. Hemingway. They don’t seem to have much in common with the other Vellālas, except for their name, and appear to have a lower social standing because Reddis will not eat with them, while they will share meals with Tottiyans and other lower non-Brāhman castes. They live in close-knit communities, usually in small villages. Their homes are typically thatched huts with just one room. They are farmers, but not doing well financially. The men can often be identified by the number of large gold rings they wear in their earlobes, along with a pendant (murugu) that hangs from the upper part of their ears. The women wear a distinct tāli (marriage badge) that is large and strung on multiple cotton threads, which are not twisted together as they are in other castes. They also seem to always wear an ornament called tāyittu, similar to a common cylindrical talisman, on their left arm.

The Konga Vellālas are split into two endogamous divisions, viz., the Konga Vellālas proper, and the Tondan or Ilakanban-kūttam (servant or inferior sub-division). [418]The latter are admittedly the offspring of illegitimate intercourse with outsiders by girls and widows of the caste, who have been expelled in consequence of their breach of caste rules.

The Konga Vellālas are divided into two subgroups that marry within their own community, namely the Konga Vellālas proper and the Tondan or Ilakanban-kūttam (the servant or lower subdivision). [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] The latter group is recognized as the descendants of outside relationships involving girls and widows from the caste, who were expelled due to their violation of caste rules.

The Kongas proper have an elaborate caste organisation. Their country is divided into twenty-four nādus, each comprising a certain number of villages, and possessing recognised head-quarters, which are arranged into four groups under the villages of Palayakōttai, Kāngayam, Pudūr and Kadayūr, all in the Coimbatore district. Each village is under a Kottukkāran, each nādu under a Nāttu-kavundan or Periyatanakkāran, and each group under a Pattakkāran. The last is treated with considerable respect. He wears gold toe-rings, is not allowed to see a corpse, and is always saluted with clasped hands. He is only occasionally called in to settle caste disputes, small matters being settled by the Kottukkārans, and matrimonial questions by the Nāttukavundan. Both the Kongas proper, and the Tondans have a large number of exogamous septs, the names of which generally denote some article, the use of which is taboo, e.g., kādai (quail), pannai (Celosia argentea, a pot-herb). The most desirable match for a boy is his maternal uncle’s daughter. To such an extent is the preference for such unions carried out, that a young boy is often married to a grown-up woman, and it is admitted that, in such cases, the boy’s father takes upon himself the duties of a husband until his son has reached maturity, and that the wife is allowed to consort with any one belonging to the caste whom she may fancy, provided that she continues to live in her husband’s house. With widows, who are not allowed to remarry, the rules are more strict. A man convicted of undue intimacy with a widow is expelled from the caste, unless [419]she consents to his leaving her and going back to the caste, and he provides her with adequate means to live separately. The form of consent is for the woman to say that she is only a mud vessel, and has been broken because polluted, whereas the man is of bell-metal, and cannot be utterly polluted. The erring man is readmitted to the caste by being taken to the village common, where he is beaten with an erukkan (arka: Calotropis gigantea) stick, and by providing a black sheep for a feast to his relatives.

The Kongas have a complex social structure. Their region is divided into twenty-four nādus, each made up of several villages, which have designated headquarters. These are organized into four groups centered around the villages of Palayakōttai, Kāngayam, Pudūr, and Kadayūr, all in the Coimbatore district. Each village is managed by a Kottukkāran, each nādu by a Nāttukavundan or Periyatanakkāran, and each group by a Pattakkāran. The Pattakkāran is given a lot of respect. He wears gold toe rings, is not permitted to see a corpse, and is always greeted with clasped hands. He is only sometimes called upon to resolve caste disagreements, as minor issues are managed by the Kottukkārans, and marriage conflicts are handled by the Nāttukavundan. Both the Kongas and the Tondans have many exogamous septs, whose names typically refer to forbidden items, such as kādai (quail) and pannai (Celosia argentea, a pot herb). The best match for a boy is his maternal uncle's daughter. This preference is so strong that a young boy may be married to an older woman, with the boy’s father often taking on the role of husband until the boy matures. In these cases, the wife may engage with anyone from the caste she likes, as long as she stays in her husband’s house. The rules are stricter for widows, who cannot remarry. A man found to be inappropriately close to a widow is expelled from the caste unless she agrees to let him leave and return to the caste, and he supports her with a way to live independently. The woman's consent is symbolized by her stating that she is merely a mud vessel that has been broken due to pollution, while the man is of bell-metal and cannot be completely polluted. To be readmitted to the caste, the man must be taken to the village square, where he is beaten with an erukkan (arka: Calotropis gigantea) stick, and he must provide a black sheep for a feast for his relatives.

At weddings and funerals, the Konga Vellālas employ priests of their own caste, called Arumaikkārans and Arumaikkāris. These must be married people, who have had children. The first stage, so far as a wife is concerned, is to become an elutingalkāri (woman of seven Mondays), without which she cannot wear a red mark on her forehead, or get any of her children married. This is effected, after the birth of at least one child, by observing a ceremonial at her father’s house. A pandal (booth) of green leaves is erected in the house, and a fillet of pungam (Pongamia glabra) and tamarind twigs is placed round her head. She is then presented with a new cloth, prepares some food and eats it, and steps over a mortar. A married couple wait until one of their children is married, and then undergo the ceremony called arumaimanam at the hands of ten Arumaikkārans and some Pulavans (bards among the Kaikōlans), who touch the pair with some green grass dipped in sandal and water, oil, etc. The man then becomes an Arumaikkāran, and his wife an Arumaikkāri. All people of arumai rank are treated with great respect, and, when one of them dies, a drum is beaten by a man standing on another man’s shoulders, who receives as a present seven measures of grain measured, and an equal quantity unmeasured. [420]

At weddings and funerals, the Konga Vellālas hire priests from their own caste, known as Arumaikkārans and Arumaikkāris. These priests must be married and have children. For a wife, the first step is to become an elutingalkāri (woman of seven Mondays); without this, she can't wear a red mark on her forehead or have her children married. This is done after the birth of at least one child through a ceremony at her father’s house. A booth made of green leaves is set up in the house, and a band of pungam (Pongamia glabra) and tamarind twigs is placed around her head. She is then given a new garment, prepares some food to eat, and steps over a mortar. A married couple waits until one of their children gets married, and then they go through the ceremony called arumaimanam performed by ten Arumaikkārans and some Pulavans (bards among the Kaikōlans), who touch the couple with green grass dipped in sandalwood, water, oil, etc. The man then becomes an Arumaikkāran, and his wife becomes an Arumaikkāri. All people of arumai rank are treated with great respect, and when one of them dies, a drum is beaten by a man standing on another man’s shoulders, who receives seven measured measures of grain and an equal amount that is unmeasured. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The betrothal ceremony takes place at the house of the future bride, in the presence of both the maternal uncles, and consists in tying fruit and betel leaf in the girl’s cloth. On the wedding day, the bridegroom is shaved, and an Arumaikkāri pours water over him. If he has a sister, the ceremony of betrothing his prospective daughter to her son, is performed. He then goes on horseback, carrying some fruit and a pestle, to a stone planted for the occasion, and called the nāttukal, which he worships. The stone is supposed to represent the Kongu king, and the pestle the villagers, and the whole ceremony is said to be a relic of a custom of the ancient Kongu people, to which the caste formerly belonged, which required them to obtain the sanction of the king for every marriage. On his return from the nāttukal, balls of white and coloured rice are taken round the bridegroom, to ward off the evil eye. His mother then gives him three mouthfuls of food, and eats the remainder herself, to indicate that henceforth she will not provide him with meals. A barber then blesses him, and he repairs on horseback to the bride’s house, where he is received by one of her party similarly mounted. His ear-rings are put in the bride’s ears, and the pair are carried on the shoulders of their maternal uncles to the nāttukal. On their return thence, they are touched by an Arumaikkāran with a betel leaf dipped in oil, milk and water. The tāli (marriage badge) is worshipped and blessed, and the Arumaikkāran ties it on her neck. The barber then pronounces an elaborate blessing, which runs as follows: “Live as long as the sun and moon may endure, or Pasupatisvarar (Siva) at Karūr. May your branches spread like the banyan tree, and your roots like grass, and may you flourish like the bamboo. May ye twain be like the flower and the thread, which [421]together form the garland and cleave together, like water and the reed growing in it.” If a Pulavan is present, he adds a further blessing, and the little fingers of the contracting couple are linked together, anointed with milk, and then separated.

The engagement ceremony happens at the future bride's home, with both maternal uncles present. It involves tying fruit and betel leaves into the girl's cloth. On the wedding day, the groom gets shaved, and an Arumaikkāri pours water over him. If he has a sister, a ceremony is performed where he betroths his potential daughter to her son. He then rides on horseback, carrying some fruit and a pestle, to a stone set up for the occasion, known as the nāttukal, which he worships. This stone is thought to represent the Kongu king, while the pestle symbolizes the villagers. The whole ceremony is said to be a remnant of an ancient Kongu custom, which required them to get the king's approval for every marriage. Upon returning from the nāttukal, balls of white and colored rice are passed around the groom to ward off the evil eye. His mother then feeds him three mouthfuls of food and keeps the rest for herself, signaling that she will no longer provide meals for him. A barber then blesses him, and he rides horseback to the bride’s house, where he is welcomed by one of her party, who is also mounted. The bridegroom's ear-rings are placed in the bride's ears, and both are carried on their maternal uncles' shoulders to the nāttukal. Upon returning, an Arumaikkāran touches them with a betel leaf dipped in oil, milk, and water. The tāli (marriage badge) is worshipped and blessed, and the Arumaikkāran ties it around her neck. The barber then gives a detailed blessing that goes: “Live as long as the sun and moon last, or as long as Pasupatisvarar (Siva) at Karūr. May your branches spread like the banyan tree, and your roots like grass, and may you thrive like bamboo. May the two of you be like the flower and the thread, which [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] together form the garland and cling together, like water and the reed growing in it.” If a Pulavan is there, he adds another blessing, and the little fingers of the couple are linked together, anointed with milk, and then separated.

The death ceremonies are not peculiar, except that the torch for the pyre is carried by a Paraiyan, and not, as among most castes, by the chief mourner, and that no ceremonies are performed after the third day. The custom is to collect the bones on that day and throw them into water. The barber then pours a mixture of milk and ghi (clarified butter) over a green tree, crying poli, poli.

The funeral ceremonies aren't unique, except that a Paraiyan carries the torch for the pyre instead of the chief mourner, like in most castes, and there are no rituals done after the third day. On that day, it's customary to gather the bones and throw them into water. The barber then pours a mix of milk and ghee (clarified butter) over a green tree, chanting "poli, poli."

The caste has its own beggars, called Mudavāndi (q.v.).

The caste has its own beggars, called Mudavāndi (q.v.).

Kongara (crane).—An exogamous sept of Padma Sālē, and Kamma.

Kongara (crane).—A group within the Padma Sālē and Kamma communities that practices exogamy.

Konhoro.—A title of Bolāsi.

Konhoro.—A title of Bolāsi.

Konkani.—Defined, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a territorial or linguistic term, meaning a dweller in the Konkan country (Canara), or a person speaking the Konkani dialect of Marāthi. Kadu Konkani (bastard Konkani) is a name opposed to the Gōd or pure Konkanis. In South Canara, “the Konkani Brāhmans are the trading and shop-keeping class, and, in the most out-of-the-way spots, the Konkani village shop is to be found.”184

Konkani.—Defined in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a territorial or linguistic term, it refers to someone from the Konkan region (Canara) or a person who speaks the Konkani dialect of Marāthi. Kadu Konkani (bastard Konkani) is a term used to indicate a distinction from the Gōd or pure Konkanis. In South Canara, “the Konkani Brāhmans are part of the trading and shopkeeping class, and even in the most remote areas, you can find a Konkani village shop.”184

The following note on Konkanis is extracted from the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “The Konkanis include the Brāhman, Kshatriya, and Vaisya castes of the Sārasvata section of the Gauda Brāhmans. The Brāhmans of this community differ, however, from the Konkanastha Mahārāshtra Brāhmans belonging to the [422]Drāvida group. The Konkani Sūdras who have settled on this coast are known by a different name, Kudumikkar. The Konkanis’ original habitation is the bank of the Sārasvati, a river well known in early Sanskrit works, but said to have lost itself in the sands of the deserts north of Rajputana. According to the Sahyādrikanda, a branch of these Sārasvatas lived in Tirhut in Bengal, whence ten families were brought over by Parasurāma to Gōmantaka, the modern Goa, Panchakrōsi, and Kusasthali. Attracted by the richness and beauty of the new country, others followed, and the whole population settled themselves in sixty villages and ninety-six hamlets in and around Goa, the settlers in the former being called Shashtis (Sanskrit for sixty), and those in the latter being called Shannavis or Shenavis (Sanskrit for ninety-six). The history of those Sārasvatas was one of uninterrupted general and commercial prosperity until about twenty years after the advent of the Portuguese. When King Emanuel died and King John succeeded him, the policy of the Goanese Government is believed to have changed in favour of religious persecution. A large efflux to the Canarese and Tulu countries was the result. Thence the Konkanis appear to have migrated to Travancore and Cochin, and found a safe haven under the rule of their Hindu sovereigns. In their last homes, the Konkanis extended and developed their commerce, built temples, and endowed them so magnificently that the religious institutions of that community, especially at Cochin and Alleppey, continue to this day almost the richest in all Malabar.

The following note on Konkanis is taken from the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “The Konkanis include the Brahmin, Kshatriya, and Vaishya castes of the Sarasvata section of the Gauda Brahmins. However, the Brahmins from this community are different from the Konkanastha Maharashtra Brahmins who belong to the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Dravida group. The Konkani Shudras who have settled on this coast are known by a different name, Kudumikkar. The original home of the Konkanis is the bank of the Sarasvati, a river well known in early Sanskrit texts, but said to have disappeared into the sands of the deserts north of Rajputana. According to the Sahyādrikanda, a branch of these Sarasvatas lived in Tirhut in Bengal, from which ten families were brought over by Parasurama to Gōmantaka, modern-day Goa, Panchakrosi, and Kusasthali. Drawn by the beauty and wealth of the new land, others followed, and the entire population settled in sixty villages and ninety-six hamlets in and around Goa. The settlers in the former were called Shashtis (Sanskrit for sixty), and those in the latter were called Shannavis or Shenavis (Sanskrit for ninety-six). The history of those Sarasvatas was one of consistent general and commercial prosperity until about twenty years after the arrival of the Portuguese. When King Emanuel died and King John took over, it’s believed the policy of the Goanese Government shifted toward religious persecution. This led to a significant exodus to the Canarese and Tulu regions. From there, the Konkanis seem to have migrated to Travancore and Cochin, finding a safe refuge under the rule of their Hindu kings. In their new homes, the Konkanis expanded and developed their trade, built temples, and endowed them so generously that the religious institutions of that community, especially in Cochin and Alleppey, remain among the wealthiest in all of Malabar to this day.

“Canter Visscher writes185 that ‘the Canarese who are permanently settled in Malabar are the race best [423]known to the Europeans, not only because the East India Company trade with them and appoint one of their members to be their merchant, giving him the attendance of two Dutch soldiers: but also because from the shops of these people in town we obtain all our necessaries, except animal food. Some sell rice, others fruits, others various kinds of linen, and some again are money-changers, so that there is hardly one who is not engaged in trade.’ The occupation of the Konkanis has been commerce ever since the advent of the Portuguese in India. Some of them make pāpatams186 (popadams) which is a condiment of almost universal consumption in Malabar. Till recently, the Konkanis in Travancore knew nothing else than trade. But now, following the example of their kinsmen in Bombay and South Canara, they are gradually taking to other professions.

“Canter Visscher writes185 that ‘the Canarese who are permanently settled in Malabar are the group best [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]known to Europeans, not just because the East India Company trades with them and appoints one of their members as their merchant, providing him with two Dutch soldiers for support, but also because we get all our essentials, except for animal food, from their shops in town. Some sell rice, some sell fruits, others offer various kinds of linen, and some are money-changers, making it hard to find one who isn’t engaged in trade.’ The Konkanis have been in commerce ever since the Portuguese arrived in India. Some of them make pāpatams186 (popadams), which is a condiment that is almost universally consumed in Malabar. Until recently, the Konkanis in Travancore knew nothing but trade. However, now, following the example of their relatives in Bombay and South Canara, they are slowly branching out into other professions.”

“Having settled themselves in the Canarese districts, most of the Konkanis came under the influence of Madhavāchārya, unlike the Shenavis, who still continue to be Smartas. The worship of Venkatarāmana, the presiding deity of the Tirupati shrine, is held in great importance. Every Konkani temple is called Tirumala Dēvasmam, as the divinity that resides on the sacred hill (Tirumala) is represented in each.”

“After settling in the Canarese regions, most of the Konkanis were influenced by Madhavāchārya, unlike the Shenavis, who still identify as Smartas. The worship of Venkatarāmana, the main deity of the Tirupati shrine, is very significant. Every Konkani temple is referred to as Tirumala Dēvasmam, as the deity from the sacred hill (Tirumala) is represented in each one.”

Konsāri.—The Konsāris derive their name from konsa, a bell-metal dish. They are Oriya workers in bell-metal, and manufacture dishes, cups and plates. Brāhmans are employed by them as purōhits (priests) and gurus (preceptors). They eat fish and mutton, but [424]not fowls or beef, and drink liquor. Marriage is infant. Remarriage of widows and divorcées is permitted.

Konsāri.—The Konsāris get their name from konsa, which means a bell-metal dish. They are Oriya craftsmen who work with bell-metal and make dishes, cups, and plates. Brāhmans work for them as priests and teachers. They eat fish and mutton, but [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]not chicken or beef, and they do drink alcohol. Marriages occur at a young age. Remarriage for widows and divorced women is allowed.

Koonapilli vāndlu.—Beggars attached to Padma Sālēs.

Koonapilli vāndlu.—Beggars associated with Padma Sālēs.

Koppala.—A section of Velamas, who tie the hair in a knot (koppu) on the top of the head, and an exogamous sept of Mutrāchas, whose females do up their hair in a knot when they reach puberty.

Koppala.—A group of Velamas, who style their hair in a knot (koppu) on the top of their heads, and an exogamous subgroup of Mutrāchas, whose women knot their hair when they hit puberty.

Kōra (sun).—A sept of Gadaba, Mūka Dora, and Rōna.

Kōra (sun).—A group of Gadaba, Mūka Dora, and Rōna.

Koracha.See Korava.

Koracha.See Korava.

Koraga.—The Koragas are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as being a wild tribe of basket-makers and labourers, chiefly found in Mudbidri, and in Puttūr in the Uppinangadi tāluk of South Canara. They are, Mr. M. T. Walhouse writes,187 “a very quiet and inoffensive race; small and slight, the men seldom exceeding five feet six inches; black-skinned, like most Indian aborigines, thick-lipped, noses broad and flat, and hair rough and bushy. Their principal occupation is basket-making, and they must labour for their masters. They live on the outskirts of villages, and may not dwell in houses of clay or mud, but in huts of leaves, called koppus. Like many of the wild tribes of India, they are distinguished by unswerving truthfulness. The word of a Koragar is proverbial.”

Koraga.—The Koragas are described in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a wild tribe of basket-makers and laborers, primarily located in Mudbidri and Puttūr in the Uppinangadi tāluk of South Canara. According to Mr. M. T. Walhouse, they are “a very quiet and gentle people; small and slender, with men rarely taller than five feet six inches; black-skinned, like most Indian indigenous people, thick-lipped, with broad, flat noses, and rough, bushy hair. Their main occupation is basket-making, and they work for their masters. They live on the outskirts of villages and are not allowed to reside in houses made of clay or mud, but in huts of leaves, called koppus. Like many wild tribes in India, they are known for their unwavering honesty. A Koraga's word is well-respected.”

The Koragas rank below the Holeyas. In some towns, they are employed by the sanitary department as scavengers. They remove the hide, horns, and bones of cattle and buffaloes, which die in the villages, and sell them mainly to Māppilla merchants. They accept food, which is left over after feasts held by various castes. [425]Some are skilful in the manufacture of cradles, baskets, cylinders to hold paddy, winnowing and sowing baskets, scale-pans, boxes, rice-water strainers, ring-stands for supporting pots, coir (cocoanut fibre) rope, brushes for washing cattle, etc. They also manufacture various domestic utensils from soapstone, which they sell at a very cheap rate to shopkeepers in the bazar.

The Koragas are considered lower than the Holeyas. In some towns, they're hired by the sanitation department as waste collectors. They remove the hides, horns, and bones of cattle and buffaloes that die in the villages and primarily sell them to Māppilla merchants. They accept leftover food from feasts held by different castes. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Some are skilled at making cradles, baskets, containers for holding rice, winnowing and sowing baskets, scale pans, boxes, rice-water strainers, stands for pots, coir (coconut fiber) rope, and brushes for washing cattle, among other items. They also create various household utensils from soapstone, which they sell to shopkeepers in the bazaar at very low prices.

“Numerous slave-castes,” Mr. Walhouse continues, “exist throughout India, not of course recognised by law—indeed formally emancipated by an Act of Government in 1843—but still, though improved in condition, virtually slaves. Their origin and status are thus described. After the four principal classes, who sprang from Brahma, came six Anuloma castes, which arose from the intercourse of Brahmans and Kshatriyas with women of the classes below them respectively. The term Anuloma denotes straight and regular hair, which in India characterises the Aryan stock. After these came six Pratiloma castes, originating in reverse order from Brahman and Kshatriya women by fathers of the inferior classes. The third among these was the Chandāla, the offspring of Shudra fathers by Brahman women. The Chandālas, or slaves, were sub-divided into fifteen classes, none of which might intermarry, a rule still strictly observed. The two last, and lowest of the fifteen classes, are the Kapata or rag-wearing, and the Soppu or leaf-wearing Koragas. Such is the account given by Brahman chroniclers; but the probability is that these lowest slave-castes are the descendants of that primitive population which the Aryan invaders from the north found occupying the soil, and, after a struggle of ages, gradually dispossessed, driving some to the hills and jungles, and reducing others to the condition of slaves. All these races are regarded by their Hindu [426]masters with boundless contempt, and held unspeakably unclean. This feeling seems the result and witness of times when the despised races were powerful, and to be approached as lords by their now haughty masters, and was probably intensified by struggles and uprisings, and the memory of humiliations inflicted on the ultimately successful conquerors. Evidences for this may be inferred from many curious rights and privileges, which the despised castes possess and tenaciously retain. Moreover, the contempt and loathing in which they are ordinarily held are curiously tinctured with superstitious fear, for they are believed to possess secret powers of magic and witchcraft, and influence with the old malignant deities of the soil, who can direct good or evil fortune. As an instance, if a Brahman mother’s children die off when young, she calls a Koragar woman, gives her some oil, rice, and copper money, and places the surviving child in her arms. The out-caste woman, who may not at other times be touched, gives the child suck, puts on it her iron bracelets, and, if a boy, names it Koragar, if a girl, Korāpulu. She then returns it to the mother. This is believed to give a new lease of life. Again, when a man is dangerously ill, or perhaps unfortunate, he pours oil into an earthen vessel, worships it in the same way as the family god, looks at his face reflected in the oil, and puts into it a hair from his head and a nail paring from his toe. The oil is then presented to the Koragars, and the hostile gods or stars are believed to be propitiated.” According to Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao,188 old superstitious Hindus never venture to utter the word Koraga during the night. [427]

“Many slave castes,” Mr. Walhouse continues, “exist throughout India, not officially recognized by law—actually freed by a Government Act in 1843—but still, despite some improvements in their conditions, they are basically slaves. Their origins and status are described as follows. After the four main classes, which came from Brahma, there were six Anuloma castes, formed from the interactions of Brahmans and Kshatriyas with women from lower classes. The term Anuloma means straight and regular hair, which characterizes the Aryan lineage in India. Following these are six Pratiloma castes, which were formed in the opposite manner from Brahman and Kshatriya women by fathers from lower classes. The third of these was the Chandāla, the children of Shudra fathers and Brahman mothers. The Chandālas, or slaves, were divided into fifteen classes, none of which could intermarry, a rule still strictly followed today. The two lowest classes among the fifteen are the Kapata, or rag-wearers, and the Soppu, or leaf-wearer Koragas. This is the account provided by Brahman historians; however, it’s likely that these lowest slave castes are descendants of the original population that the Aryan invaders from the north found living on the land, and after a long struggle, gradually dislodged, pushing some into the hills and jungles, while reducing others to slavery. All these groups are viewed by their Hindu masters with immense contempt and considered unimaginably unclean. This feeling appears to stem from times when these despised groups held power and were approached like lords by their now arrogant masters, and was likely heightened by conflicts and uprisings, as well as memories of humiliations inflicted on the ultimately victorious conquerors. Many peculiar rights and privileges held and fiercely guarded by these marginalized castes further support this idea. Additionally, the disdain and hatred typically directed at them are weirdly mixed with superstitious fear, as they are believed to possess secret powers of magic and witchcraft, and influence over the ancient, malevolent deities of the land, who can determine good or bad fortune. For instance, if a Brahman mother loses her young children, she calls a Koragar woman, offers her some oil, rice, and copper coins, and puts the surviving child in her arms. The out-caste woman, who cannot normally be touched, breastfeeds the child, adorns it with her iron bracelets, and if it's a boy, names him Koragar, and if it's a girl, Korāpulu. She then returns the child to the mother, and this is believed to give the child a renewed chance at life. Similarly, when a man is gravely ill or facing misfortune, he pours oil into a clay pot, worships it like the family deity, gazes at his reflection in the oil, and adds a hair from his head and a toenail clipping. The oil is then given to the Koragars, with the belief that it placates the hostile gods or stars.” According to Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao, old superstitious Hindus never dare to say the word Koraga during the night.

It is noted in the Manual of the South Canara district, that “all traditions unite in attributing the introduction of the Tulu Brahmins of the present day to Mayūr Varma (of the Kadamba dynasty), but they vary in details connected with the manner in which they obtained a firm footing in the land. One account says that Habāshika, chief of the Koragas, drove out Mayūr Varma, but was in turn expelled by Mayūr Varma’s son, or son-in-law, Lōkāditya of Gōkarnam, who brought Brahmins from Ahi-kshētra, and settled them in thirty-two villages.” Concerning the power, and eventual degradation of the Koragas, the following version of the tradition is cited by Mr. Walhouse. “When Lokadirāya, whose date is fixed by Wilks about 1450 B.C., was king of Bhanvarshe in North Canara (a place noted by Ptolemy), an invader, by name Habāshika, brought an army from above the ghauts, consisting of all the present Chandāla or slave-castes, overwhelmed that part of the country, and marched southward to Mangalore, the present capital of South Canara. The invading host was scourged with small-pox, and greatly annoyed by ants, so Habāshika moved on to Manjeshwar, a place of ancient repute, twelve miles to the south, subdued the local ruler Angarawarma, son of Virawarma, and reigned there in conjunction with his nephew; but after twelve years both died—one legend says through enchantments devised by Angarawarma; another that a neighbouring ruler treacherously proposed a marriage between his sister and Habāshika, and, on the bridegroom and his caste-men attending for the nuptials, a wholesale massacre of them all was effected. Angarawarma, then returning, drove the invading army into the jungles, where they were reduced to such extremity that they consented to become slaves, and were apportioned amongst the Brahmans and original [428]landholders. Some were, set to watch the crops and cattle, some to cultivate, others to various drudgeries, which are still allotted to the existing slave-castes, but the Koragars, who had been raised by Habāshika to the highest posts under his government, were stripped and driven towards the sea-shore, there to be hanged, but, being ashamed of their naked condition, they gathered the leaves of the nicki bush (Vitex Negundo), which grows abundantly in waste places, and made small coverings for themselves in front. On this the executioners took pity on them and let them go, but condemned them to be the lowest of the low, and wear no other covering but leaves. The Koragas are now the lowest of the slave divisions, and regarded with such intense loathing and hatred that up to quite recent times one section of them, called Andē or pot Koragars, continually wore a pot suspended from their necks, into which they were compelled to spit, being so utterly unclean as to be prohibited from even spitting on the highway; and to this day their women continue to show in their leafy aprons a memorial of the abject degradation to which their whole race was doomed.” It is said that in pre-British days an Andē Koraga had to take out a licence to come into the towns and villages by day. At night mere approach thereto was forbidden, as his presence would cause terrible calamity. The Koragas of those days could cook their food only in broken vessels. The name Vastra, by which one class of Koragas is called, has reference to their wearing vastra, or clothes, such as were used to shroud a dead body, and given to them in the shape of charity, the use of a new cloth being prohibited. According to another account the three divisions of the Koragas are (1) Kappada, those who wear clothes, (2) Tippi, who wear ornaments made [429]of the cocoanut shell, and (3) Vanti, who wear a peculiar kind of large ear-ring. These three clans may eat together, but not intermarry. Each clan is divided into exogamous septs called balis, and it may be noted that some of the Koraga balis, such as Haledennaya and Kumērdennaya, are also found among the Māri and Mundala Holeyas.

It is noted in the Manual of the South Canara district that "all traditions agree that the Tulu Brahmins we see today trace their origins back to Mayūr Varma (of the Kadamba dynasty), but they differ in the details regarding how they established themselves in the region. One story claims that Habāshika, the chief of the Koragas, expelled Mayūr Varma, but was later driven out by Mayūr Varma’s son or son-in-law, Lōkāditya of Gōkarnam, who brought Brahmins from Ahi-kshētra and settled them in thirty-two villages." Regarding the rise and eventual decline of the Koragas, Mr. Walhouse shares the following version of the tradition. "When Lokadirāya, whose date is estimated by Wilks to be around 1450 B.C., was king of Bhanvarshe in North Canara (a location known to Ptolemy), an invader named Habāshika led an army from the ghauts, made up of all the current Chandāla or slave classes, overwhelmed that part of the region, and marched southward to Mangalore, now the capital of South Canara. The invading army was struck by smallpox and bothered by ants, prompting Habāshika to move on to Manjeshwar, a place of historical significance, twelve miles to the south. There, he defeated the local ruler Angarawarma, son of Virawarma, and ruled alongside his nephew. However, after twelve years, both died—one legend claims it was due to magic plotted by Angarawarma; another states that a nearby ruler deceitfully suggested a marriage between his sister and Habāshika, and when the groom and his kin arrived for the wedding, they were all slaughtered. Angarawarma then returned and forced the invading army into the jungles, where they were reduced to such hardship that they agreed to become slaves and were distributed among the Brahmins and original landholders. Some were assigned to guard the crops and livestock, some to farming, and others to various laborious tasks, which are still given to the existing slave classes, but the Koragars, who had been elevated by Habāshika to high positions under his rule, were stripped bare and driven toward the seashore to be hanged. Ashamed of their nudity, they gathered leaves from the nicki bush (Vitex Negundo), which grows abundantly in barren areas, and created small coverings for themselves. The executioners, feeling pity, released them but condemned them to be the lowest of the low, wearing only leaf coverings. The Koragas are now the lowest among the slave divisions and are viewed with such intense disdain and hatred that up until recently, one subgroup of them, called Andē or pot Koragars, constantly wore a pot around their necks to spit into, as they were considered so unclean that they were prohibited from even spitting on the road; even today, their women continue to carry signs of the humiliating degradation that their entire community faced in their leafy aprons." It is said that in pre-British times, an Andē Koraga needed a license to enter towns and villages during the day. At night, merely approaching these areas was forbidden, as their presence was believed to bring misfortune. The Koragas of that time could only cook their meals in broken vessels. The name Vastra, referring to one class of Koragas, relates to their wearing garments that were used to wrap a dead body, given to them as charity, as they were forbidden from wearing new cloth. According to another account, the three groups of Koragas are (1) Kappada, those who wear clothes, (2) Tippi, who wear ornaments made of coconut shells, and (3) Vanti, who wear a specific type of large earring. These three clans can eat together but cannot intermarry. Each clan is divided into exogamous sections called balis, and it's worth noting that some of the Koraga balis, such as Haledennaya and Kumērdennaya, can also be found among the Māri and Mundala Holeyas.

Koraga.

Koraga.

Koraga.

On the subject of Koraga dress, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao informs us that “while the males gird a piece of cloth round their loins, the females cover their waist with leaves of the forest woven together. Various reasons are assigned for this custom. According to a tradition, at the time when the Koragars had reigned, now far distant, one of these ‘blacklegged’ (this is usually the expression by which they are referred to during the night) demanded a girl of high birth in marriage. Being enraged at this, the upper class withheld, after the overthrow of the Koragas, every kind of dress from Koraga women, who, to protect themselves from disgrace, have since had recourse to the leaves of the forest, conceiving in the meantime that god had decreed this kind of covering.” Mr. Walhouse writes189 further that the Koragas wear an “apron of twigs and leaves over the buttocks. Once this was the only covering allowed them, and a mark of their deep degradation. But now, when no longer compulsory, and of no use, as it is worn over the clothes, the women still retain it, believing its disuse would be unlucky.” “The Koragas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart tells us,190 “cover the lower part of their body with a black cloth and the upper part with a white one, and their head-dress is a cap made of the areca-nut spathe, like that worn by the Holeyas. [430]Their ornaments consist of brass ear-rings, an iron bracelet, and beads of bone strung on a thread and tied around their waist.” The waist-belt of a Koraga, whom I saw at Udipi, was made of owl bones.

On the topic of Koraga dress, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao tells us that “while men wrap a piece of cloth around their waists, women cover their waists with leaves from the forest woven together. Various reasons are given for this custom. According to tradition, back when the Koragars ruled, which was a long time ago, one of these 'blacklegged' (that's what they are often called at night) demanded to marry a girl from a noble family. Upset by this, the upper class, after the fall of the Koragas, took away all kinds of clothing from Koraga women, who, to avoid shame, turned to using forest leaves for covering themselves, believing that god had intended this type of attire.” Mr. Walhouse further notes that the Koragas wear an “apron of twigs and leaves over their buttocks. This used to be the only clothing allowed for them and was a sign of their severe degradation. But now, since it is no longer mandatory and serves no real purpose, as it is worn over their clothes, the women still keep it, thinking that not wearing it would bring bad luck.” “The Koragas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart informs us, “cover the lower part of their bodies with black cloth and the upper part with white, and their headwear is a cap made from the areca-nut spathe, similar to what the Holeyas wear. Their jewelry consists of brass earrings, an iron bracelet, and bone beads strung on a thread tied around their waists.” The waist-belt of a Koraga I saw at Udipi was made of owl bones.

“It may,” Mr. Walhouse states,191 “be noted that, according to the traditional accounts, when the invading hosts under Habāshika were in their turn overthrown and subjected, they accepted slavery under certain conditions that preserved to them some shadow of right. Whilst it was declared that they should be for ever in a state of servitude, and be allowed a meal daily, but never the means of providing for the next day’s meal. Each slave was ascripted to his master under the following forms, which have come down to our days, and were observed in the purchase or transfer of slaves within living memory. The slave having washed, anointed himself with oil, and put on a new cloth, his future owner took a metal plate, filled it with water, and dropped in a gold coin, which the slave appropriated after drinking up the water. The slave then took some earth from his future master’s estate, and threw it on the spot he chose for his hut, which was given over to him with all the trees thereon. When land was transferred, the slaves went with it, and might also be sold separately. Occasionally they were presented to a temple for the service of the deity. This was done publicly by the master approaching the temple, putting some earth from before its entrance into the slave’s mouth, and declaring that he abjured his rights, and transferred them to the deity within. Rules were laid down, with the Hindoo passion for regulating small matters, not only detailing what work the slaves should do, but what allowances of food [431]they should receive, and what presents on certain festival occasions they should obtain from, or make to the master. On marriages among themselves, they prostrated themselves before the master and obtained his consent, which was accompanied with a small present of money and rice. The marriage over, they again came before the master, who gave them betel nuts, and poured some oil on the bride’s head. On the master’s death, his head slave immediately shaved his hair and moustache. There was also a list of offences for which masters might punish slaves, amongst which the employment of witchcraft, or sending out evil spirits against others, expressly figures; and the punishments with which each offence might be visited are specified, the worst of which are branding and flogging with switches. There was no power of life and death, and in cases of withholding the usual allowance, or of punishments severer than prescribed, slaves might complain to the authorities.”

“It may,” Mr. Walhouse states, 191 “be noted that, according to traditional accounts, when the invading forces under Habāshika were eventually defeated and subjected, they accepted slavery under certain conditions that allowed them some semblance of rights. It was declared that they would remain in servitude forever and would receive one meal each day, but never the means to provide for the next day’s meal. Each slave was assigned to his master through specific rituals, which have been passed down to our time and were observed in the buying or transferring of slaves within living memory. The slave, having washed, anointed himself with oil, and donned a new cloth, would have his future owner take a metal plate, fill it with water, and drop in a gold coin, which the slave would take after drinking the water. Then the slave would take some dirt from his future master’s land and throw it on the spot he chose for his hut, which was granted to him along with all the trees on it. When land was sold, the slaves went with it and could also be sold separately. Occasionally, they were presented to a temple for the service of the deity. This was done publicly by the master approaching the temple, putting some dirt from in front of its entrance into the slave’s mouth, and declaring that he renounced his rights and transferred them to the deity within. Rules were established, with the Hindu tendency to regulate minor matters, detailing not only what work the slaves should perform but also what rations of food [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]they should receive, and what gifts on certain festival occasions they should receive from or give to the master. When slaves married among themselves, they would bow before the master and seek his consent, which came with a small gift of money and rice. After the marriage, they would come before the master again, who would give them betel nuts and pour oil on the bride’s head. Upon the master’s death, his head slave would immediately shave his hair and moustache. There was also a list of offenses for which masters could punish slaves, including witchcraft or sending out evil spirits against others, explicitly mentioned; and the punishments for each offense were specified, the worst being branding and flogging with switches. There was no power of life and death, and in cases of withholding the usual allowances or administering punishments harsher than prescribed, slaves could complain to the authorities.”

On the subject of Koraga slavery, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao writes that “although these slaves are in a degraded condition, yet they by no means appear to be dejected or unhappy. A male slave gets three hanis of paddy (unhusked rice) or a hani and a half of rice daily, besides a small quantity of salt. The female slave gets two hanis of paddy, and, if they be man and wife, they can easily sell a portion of the rice to procure other necessaries of life. They are also allowed one cloth each every year, and, besides, when transferred from one master to another, they get a cocoanut, a jack tree (Artocarpus integrifolia), and a piece of land where they can sow ten or twenty seers of rice. The greater number of slaves belong to the Alia Santānam castes (inheritance in the female line), and among these people [432]a male slave is sold for three pagodas (fourteen rupees) and a female slave for five pagoda; whereas the few slaves who belong to the Makkala Santānam castes (inheritance in the male line) fetch five pagodas for the man slave, and three pagodas for the female. This is because the children of the latter go to the husband’s master, while those of the former go to the mother’s master, who has the benefit of the husband’s services also. He has, however, to pay the expenses of their marriage, which amount to a pagoda and a half; and, in like manner, the master of the Makkala Santāna slave pays two pagodas for his marriage, and gets possession of the female slave and her children. The master has the power of hiring out his slave, for whose services he receives annually about a mura of rice, or forty seers. They are also mortgaged for three or four pagodas.”

On the topic of Koraga slavery, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao states that “even though these slaves are in a poor situation, they definitely don't seem to be sad or unhappy. A male slave receives three hanis of paddy (unhusked rice) or one and a half hanis of rice daily, along with a small amount of salt. The female slave gets two hanis of paddy, and if they are husband and wife, they can easily sell part of the rice to buy other essentials. They are also given one piece of cloth each year, and when they are moved from one owner to another, they receive a coconut, a jack tree (Artocarpus integrifolia), and a piece of land where they can plant ten or twenty seers of rice. Most of the slaves come from the Alia Santānam castes (inheritance through the female line), and for these people [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], a male slave is sold for three pagodas (fourteen rupees) and a female slave for five pagodas; meanwhile, the few slaves from the Makkala Santānam castes (inheritance through the male line) sell for five pagodas for the male slave and three pagodas for the female. This difference is because the children of the latter go to the husband's master, while those of the former go to the mother's master, who also benefits from the husband’s labor. However, he has to cover the costs of their marriage, which is one and a half pagodas; similarly, the master of the Makkala Santāna slave pays two pagodas for his marriage and gains ownership of the female slave and her children. The master can hire out his slave, for whose services he receives about a mura of rice, or forty seers, annually. They can also be mortgaged for three or four pagodas.”

For the marriages of the Koragas, Mr. Walhouse informs us that “Sunday is an auspicious day, though Monday is for the other slave castes. The bridegroom and bride, after bathing in cold water, sit on a mat in the former’s house, with a handful of rice placed before them. An old man presides, takes a few grains of rice and sprinkles on their heads, as do the others present, first the males and then the females. The bridegroom then presents two silver coins to his wife, and must afterwards give six feasts to the community.” At these feasts every Koraga is said to vie with his neighbour in eating and drinking. “Though amongst the other slave castes divorce is allowed by consent of the community, often simply on grounds of disagreement, and the women may marry again, with the Koragars marriage is indissoluble, but a widow is entitled to re-marriage, and a man may have a second, and even third wife, all living with him.” [433]

For Koraga marriages, Mr. Walhouse tells us that “Sunday is a lucky day, while Monday is for the other slave castes. After taking a cold water bath, the bride and groom sit on a mat in the groom’s house, with a handful of rice in front of them. An elder presides over the ceremony, takes a few grains of rice, and sprinkles them on their heads, followed by others present, starting with the men and then the women. The groom then gives two silver coins to his wife and is required to organize six feasts for the community afterward.” At these feasts, every Koraga reportedly competes with their neighbors in eating and drinking. “While other slave castes allow divorce by mutual consent—often just due to disagreements, and women can remarry—with the Koragas, marriage is permanent. However, a widow is allowed to remarry, and a man can have a second and even a third wife, all living with him.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Concerning the ceremonies observed on the birth of a child, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao writes that “after a child is born, the mother (as among Hindoos) is unholy, and cannot be touched or approached. The inmates take leave of the koppu for five nights, and depend on the hospitality of their friends, placing the mother under the sole charge of a nurse or midwife. On the sixth night the master of the koppu calls his neighbours, who can hardly refuse to oblige him with their presence. The mother and the child are then given a tepid bath, and this makes them holy. Members of each house bring with them a seer of rice, half a seer of cocoanut oil, and a cocoanut. The woman with the baby is seated on a mat—her neighbour’s presents before her in a flat basket. The oldest man present consults with his comrades as to what name will best suit the child. A black string is then tied round the waist of the baby. The rice, which comes in heaps from the neighbours, is used for dinner on the occasion, and the cocoanuts are split into two pieces, the lower half being given to the mother of the child, and the upper half the owner. This is the custom followed when the baby is a male one; in case of a female child, the owner receives the upper half, leaving the lower half for the mother. Koragars were originally worshippers of the sun, and they are still called after the names of the days of the week—as Aita (a corruption of Aditya, or the sun); Toma (Sōma, or the moon); Angara (Mangala); Gurva (Jupiter); Tanya (Shani, or Saturn); Tukra (Shukra, or Venus). They have no separate temples for their God, but a place beneath a kāsaracana tree (Strychnos Nux-vomica) is consecrated for the worship of the deity which is exclusively their own, and is called Kata. Worship in honour of this deity is usually performed in the months of May, July, or [434]October. Two plantain leaves are placed on the spot, with a heap of boiled rice mixed with turmeric. As is usual in every ceremony observed by a Koragar, the senior in age takes the lead, and prays to the deity to accept the offering and be satisfied. But now they have, by following the example of Bants and Sudras, exchanged their original object of worship for that of Bhutas (demons).”

Regarding the ceremonies held when a child is born, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao mentions that “after a baby is born, the mother (like among Hindus) is considered unclean and cannot be touched or approached. The family leaves the house for five nights and relies on the hospitality of friends, leaving the mother in the care of a nurse or midwife. On the sixth night, the head of the household invites neighbors, who can hardly refuse to attend. The mother and baby are then given a warm bath, which purifies them. Each household brings a measure of rice, half a measure of coconut oil, and a coconut. The woman with the baby sits on a mat—her neighbor’s gifts placed before her in a flat basket. The oldest man present discusses with his peers what name would be best for the baby. A black string is tied around the baby’s waist. The rice, which is donated in large amounts by the neighbors, is used for the meal on this occasion, and the coconuts are split into two parts, with the lower half given to the mother and the upper half to the donor. This is the tradition for male babies; in the case of a female child, the donor receives the upper half while the mother gets the lower half. Koragars were originally sun worshippers and are still named after the days of the week—Aita (a version of Aditya, meaning the sun); Toma (Sōma, or the moon); Angara (Mangala); Gurva (Jupiter); Tanya (Shani, or Saturn); Tukra (Shukra, or Venus). They don’t have separate temples for their deity, but a spot beneath a kāsaracana tree (Strychnos Nux-vomica) is designated for worshipping their unique deity, known as Kata. Worship of this deity usually takes place in May, July, or [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]October. Two plantain leaves are placed at the site, along with a pile of boiled rice mixed with turmeric. As is customary in every ceremony conducted by a Koragar, the oldest member leads the prayers to the deity, asking for acceptance of the offering and for satisfaction. However, now they have followed the example of Bants and Sudras, changing their original object of worship to Bhutas (demons).”

On the subject of the religion of the Koragas, Mr. Walhouse states that “like all the slave castes and lower races, the Koragars worship Mari Amma, the goddess presiding over small-pox, the most dreadful form of Parvati, the wife of Siva. She is the most popular deity in Canara, represented under the most frightful form, and worshipped with bloody rites. Goats, buffaloes, pigs, fowls, etc., are slaughtered at a single blow by an Asādi, one of the slave tribes from above the ghauts. Although the Koragars, in common with all slaves, are looked upon as excommunicated and unfit to approach any Brahminical temple or deity, they have adopted the popular Hindoo festivals of the Gokalastami or Krishna’s birthday, and the Chowti. In the latter, the preliminaries and prayers must be performed by a virgin.” Concerning these festivals, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao gives the following details. “The Koragars have no fixed feasts exclusively of their own, but for a long time they have been observing those of the Hindus. Of these two are important. One is Gōkula Ashtami, or the birthday of Krishna, and the other is the Chowti or Pooliyar feast. The latter is of greater importance than the former. The former is a holy day of abstinence and temperance, while the latter is associated with feasting and merry-making, and looks more like a gala-day set apart for anything but religious performance. On the Ashtami some cakes of [435]black gram are made in addition to the usual dainties. The services of Bacchus are called in aid, and the master of the koppu invites his relatives and friends. A regular feasting commences, when the master takes the lead, and enjoys the company of his guests by seating himself in their midst. They are made to sit on the floor crosswise with a little space intervening between every guest, who pays strict regard to all the rules of decency and rank. To keep up the distinction of sexes, females are seated in an opposite row. The host calls upon some of his intimates or friends to serve on the occasion. The first dish is curry, the second rice; and cakes and dainties come in next. The butler Koragar serves out to the company the food for the banquet, while the guests eat it heartily. If one of them lets so much as a grain of rice fall on his neighbour’s plate, the whole company ceases eating. The offender is at once brought before the guests, and charged with having spoiled the dinner. He is tried there and then, and sentenced to pay a fine that will cover the expenses of another banquet. In case of resistance to the authority of the tribunal, he is excommunicated and abandoned by his wife, children and relatives. No one dare touch or speak to him. A plea of poverty of course receives a kind consideration. The offender is made to pay a small sum as a fine, which is paid for him by a well-to-do Koragar. To crown the feast, a large quantity of toddy finds its way into the midst of the company. A small piece of dry areca leaf sewed together covers the head of a Koragar, and forms for him his hat. This hat he uses as a cup, which contains a pretty large quantity of liquid. A sufficient quantity is poured into their cup, and if, in pouring, a drop finds its way to the ground, the butler is sure to undergo the same penalty that attaches itself to any [436]irregularity in the dinner as described above. After the banquet, some male members of the group join in a dance to the pipe and drum, while others are stimulated by the intoxicating drink into frisking and jumping about. To turn to the other festival. The inmates of the house are required to fast the previous night—one and all of them—and on the previous day flesh or drink is not allowed. The next morning before sunrise, a virgin bathes, and smears cowdung over a part of the house. The place having been consecrated, a new basket, specially made for the occasion, is placed on that spot. It contains a handful of beaten rice, two plantains, and two pieces of sugar-cane. The basket is then said to contain the god of the day, whom the sugar-cane represents, and the spot is too holy to be approached by man or woman. A common belief which they hold, that the prayers made by a virgin are duly responded to on account of her virgin purity, does not admit of the worship being conducted by any one else. The girl adorns the basket with flowers of the forest, and prays for the choicest blessings on the inmates of the house all the year round.

On the topic of the Koragas' religion, Mr. Walhouse notes that “like all the slave castes and lower classes, the Koragars worship Mari Amma, the goddess associated with smallpox, a fearsome incarnation of Parvati, the wife of Shiva. She is the most revered deity in Canara, depicted in a terrifying form, and worshipped with gruesome rituals. Goats, buffaloes, pigs, chickens, etc., are killed in a single blow by an Asādi, one of the slave tribes from the hills. Even though the Koragars, like all slaves, are seen as outcasts and unfit to enter any Brahminical temple or worship any deity, they have adopted popular Hindu festivals like Gokalastami or Krishna's birthday, and the Chowti. For the latter, the preliminaries and prayers must be done by a virgin.” Regarding these festivals, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao provides the following details: “The Koragars don’t have fixed feasts of their own, but for a long time they have been celebrating those of the Hindus. Two of these are significant. One is Gōkula Ashtami, or Krishna’s birthday, and the other is the Chowti or Pooliyar feast. The latter is more important than the former. The first is a holy day of fasting and moderation, while the latter is about feasting and celebration, resembling a festive day meant for anything but religious observance. On Ashtami, some cakes made from black gram are prepared in addition to the usual treats. The host invites relatives and friends, and a proper feast begins, with the host enjoying his guests by sitting among them. They sit on the floor crosswise with space between them, observing the rules of courtesy and hierarchy. To maintain the distinction of genders, women sit in a separate row. The host asks some of his close friends to help serve food. The first dish is curry, the second is rice; then come cakes and treats. The Koragar butler serves the banquet food while the guests eat enthusiastically. If anyone lets even a grain of rice fall onto someone else's plate, the entire gathering stops eating. The culprit is immediately brought forward and accused of ruining the meal. They are tried right there and then, and fined an amount that covers the cost of another feast. If someone resists the tribunal's authority, they are excommunicated and cut off from their wife, children, and relatives. No one is allowed to touch or speak to them. A plea of poverty is treated leniently. The offender pays a small fine, which is covered by a wealthier Koragar. To finish off the feast, a large amount of toddy is shared among the group. A Koragar's hat is a small piece of dry areca leaf sewn together, which he uses as a cup, holding a generous amount of liquid. A sufficient quantity is poured into their cup, and if even a drop spills on the ground during pouring, the butler is subject to the same penalty as any other irregularity during the dinner, as mentioned above. After the feast, some men in the group join in a dance to the music of a pipe and drum, while others, fueled by the intoxicating drink, start dancing and jumping around. Now, about the other festival. Everyone in the house must fast the night before—abstaining from meat and drink. On the following morning before sunrise, a virgin bathes and spreads cow dung over a part of the house. Once this area is blessed, a new basket specifically made for this occasion is placed there. It holds a handful of beaten rice, two plantains, and two pieces of sugarcane. The basket is believed to contain the god of the day, represented by the sugarcane, and the area is deemed too sacred for anyone to approach. They commonly believe that a virgin's prayers are answered due to her purity, hence no one else can perform the worship. The girl decorates the basket with forest flowers and prays for the best blessings for the home's residents throughout the year.

A Koraga woman, when found guilty of adultery, is said to be treated in the following extraordinary way. If her paramour is of low caste similar to herself, he has to marry her. But, in order to purify her for the ceremony, he has to build a hut, and put the woman inside. It is then set on fire, and the woman escapes as best she can to another place where the same performance is gone through, and so on until she has been burnt out seven times. She is then considered once more an honest woman, and fit to be again married. According to Mr. Walhouse, “a row of seven small huts is built on a river-bank, set fire to, and the offender made to run over the burning sticks and ashes as a penance.” A similar [437]form of ordeal has been described as occurring among the Bākutas of South Canara by Mr. Stuart. “When a man is excommunicated, he must perform a ceremony called yēlu halli sudodu, which means burning seven villages, in order to re-enter the caste. For this ceremony, seven small booths are built, and bundles of grass are piled against them. The excommunicated man has then to pass through these huts one after the other, and, as he does so, the headman sets fire to the grass” (cf. Koyi). It is suggested by Mr. R. E. Enthoven that the idea seems to be “a rapid representation of seven existences, the outcast regaining his status after seven generations have passed without further transgression. The parallel suggested is the law of Manu that seven generations are necessary to efface a lapse from the law of endogamous marriage.”

A Koraga woman found guilty of adultery is said to be treated in an unusual way. If her lover is of low caste like herself, he must marry her. However, to purify her for the ceremony, he has to build a hut and place the woman inside. The hut is then set on fire, and the woman escapes as best she can to another location where the same process happens, continuing until she has been burned out seven times. After this, she is considered an honest woman again and eligible for marriage. According to Mr. Walhouse, “a row of seven small huts is built on a riverbank, set on fire, and the offender is made to run over the burning sticks and ashes as a penance.” A similar [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] ordeal has been described among the Bākutas of South Canara by Mr. Stuart. “When a man is excommunicated, he must perform a ceremony called yēlu halli sudodu, meaning burning seven villages, to re-enter the caste. For this ceremony, seven small booths are constructed, and bundles of grass are stacked against them. The excommunicated man must then pass through these huts one by one, while the headman sets fire to the grass” (cf. Koyi). Mr. R. E. Enthoven suggests that the idea appears to be “a rapid representation of seven existences, with the outcast regaining status after seven generations have passed without further wrongdoing. The parallel drawn is from the law of Manu that seven generations are needed to erase a lapse from the law of endogamous marriage.”

Of death ceremonies Mr. Walhouse tells us that “on death the bodies of all the slave castes used to be burnt, except in cases of death from small-pox. This may have been to obviate the pollution of the soil by their carcases when their degradation was deepest, but now, and from long past, burial is universal. The master’s permission is still asked, and, after burial, four balls of cooked rice are placed on the grave, possibly a trace of the ancient notion of supplying food to the ghost of the deceased.” A handful is said192 to be “removed from the grave on the sixteenth day after burial, and buried in a pit. A stone is erected over it, on which some rice and toddy are placed as a last offering to the departed soul which is then asked to join its ancestors.”

Of death ceremonies, Mr. Walhouse tells us that “when someone died, the bodies of all the slave castes were burned, except in cases of death from smallpox. This might have been to prevent the pollution of the soil by their remains when they were at their lowest point, but now, and for a long time, burial is the norm. The master’s permission is still requested, and after burial, four balls of cooked rice are placed on the grave, possibly a remnant of the old belief in providing food for the ghost of the deceased.” A handful is said to be “removed from the grave on the sixteenth day after burial and buried in a pit. A stone is placed over it, and some rice and toddy are offered as a final tribute to the departed soul, which is then invited to join its ancestors.”

“It may,” Mr. Walhouse writes, “be noted that the Koragars alone of all the slave or other castes eat the [438]flesh of alligators (crocodiles), and they share with one or two other divisions of the slaves a curious scruple or prejudice against carrying any four-legged animal, dead or alive. This extends to anything with four legs, such as chairs, tables, cots, etc., which they cannot be prevailed upon to lift unless one leg be removed. As they work as coolies, this sometimes produces inconvenience. A somewhat similar scruple obtains among the Bygas of Central India, whose women are not allowed to sit or lie on any four-legged bed or stool.” Like the Koragas, the Bākudas of South Canara “will not carry a bedstead unless the legs are first taken off, and it is said that this objection rests upon a supposed resemblance between the four-legged cot and the four-legged ox.”193

“It may,” Mr. Walhouse writes, “be noted that the Koragars, unlike any other slave or caste group, eat the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]flesh of alligators (crocodiles). They, along with one or two other slave divisions, have a peculiar belief or bias against carrying any four-legged animal, whether it's dead or alive. This belief applies to anything with four legs, such as chairs, tables, and cots, which they refuse to lift unless one leg is removed. Since they work as coolies, this occasionally causes some issues. A similar belief is found among the Bygas of Central India, where women are not permitted to sit or lie on any four-legged bed or stool.” Like the Koragas, the Bākudas of South Canara “will not carry a bedstead unless the legs are first taken off, and it is said that this objection is based on a perceived resemblance between the four-legged cot and the four-legged ox.”193

Of the language spoken by the Koragars, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao states that “it is a common belief that the Koragar has a peculiar dialect generally spoken by him at his koppu. He may be induced to give an account of his feasts, his gods, his family, but a word about his dialect will frighten him out of his wits. Generally polite and well-behaved, he becomes impolite and unmannerly when questioned about his dialect.” “All the Hindoos,” Mr. Walhouse writes, “believe that the Koragars have a language of their own, understood only by themselves, but it seems doubtful whether this is anything more than an idiom, or slang.” A vocabulary of the Koraga dialect is contained in the South Canara Manual (1895).

Of the language spoken by the Koragars, Mr. Ullal Raghvendra Rao states that “it’s commonly believed that the Koragar has a unique dialect that he usually speaks at his koppu. He might be willing to talk about his feasts, his gods, or his family, but asking him about his dialect will scare him to death. Generally polite and well-mannered, he becomes rude and ill-mannered when questioned about his dialect.” “All the Hindus,” Mr. Walhouse writes, “believe that the Koragars have their own language, which only they understand, but it seems uncertain whether this is anything more than an idiom or slang.” A vocabulary of the Koraga dialect is included in the South Canara Manual (1895).

Korama.See Korava.

Korama.See Korava.

Korava.—Members of this nomad tribe, which permeates the length of the Indian peninsula, through countries where many languages and dialects are spoken, are likely to be known by different names in different [439]localities, and this is the case. They are known as Korava from the extreme south to the north of the North Arcot district, where they are called Koracha or Korcha, and in the Ceded Districts they become Yerukala or Yerakala. In Calcutta they have been traced practising as quack doctors, and assuming Marātha names, or adding terminations to their own, which suggest that they belong to a caste in the south higher in the social scale than they really do. Some Koravas pass for Vellālas, calling themselves Agambadiar Vellālas with the title Pillai. Others call themselves Palli, Kavarai, Idaiyan, Reddi, etc.194 As railways spread over the country, they readily adapted themselves to travelling by them, and the opportunities afforded for going quickly far from the scene of a recently committed crime, or for stealing from sleeping passengers, were soon availed of. In 1899, the Superintendent of Government Railways reported that “the large organization of thieves, commonly called Kepmari Koravas (though they never call themselves so), use the railway to travel far. Some of them are now settled at Cuttack, where they have set up as native doctors, whose speciality is curing piles. Some are at Midnapūr, and are going on to Calcutta, and there were some at Puri some time ago. It is said that a gang of them has gone recently to Tinnevelly, and taken up their abode near Sermadēvi, calling themselves Servaikars. One morning, in Tinnevelly, while the butler in a missionary’s house was attending to his duties, an individual turned up with a fine fowl for sale. The butler, finding that he could purchase it for about half the real price, bought it, and showed it to his wife with no small pride in his ability in [440]making a bargain. But he was distinctly crestfallen when his wife pointed out that it was his own bird, which had been lost on the previous night. The seller was a Korava.”

Korava.—Members of this nomadic tribe, which is spread throughout the Indian peninsula and comes across regions with many languages and dialects, are likely to have different names in different [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]areas, and this is indeed the case. They are referred to as Korava from the extreme south up to the north of the North Arcot district, where they are called Koracha or Korcha, and in the Ceded Districts, they are known as Yerukala or Yerakala. In Calcutta, they have been found posing as quack doctors, adopting Marātha names, or adding endings to their own names to suggest a higher social standing than they actually have in the south. Some Koravas claim to be Vellālas, calling themselves Agambadiar Vellālas with the title Pillai. Others identify as Palli, Kavarai, Idaiyan, Reddi, etc.194 As the railways expanded across the country, they quickly adapted to traveling by train, seizing the opportunities to get far away from the scene of a recently committed crime or to steal from sleeping passengers. In 1899, the Superintendent of Government Railways reported that “the large organization of thieves, commonly known as Kepmari Koravas (though they never call themselves that), use the railway to travel long distances. Some of them have now settled in Cuttack, posing as native doctors specializing in treating piles. Others are in Midnapūr, heading to Calcutta, and there were some in Puri not long ago. It's said that a group of them has recently gone to Tinnevelly, settling near Sermadēvi, calling themselves Servaikars. One morning in Tinnevelly, while the butler in a missionary’s house was going about his duties, an individual appeared with a fine chicken for sale. The butler, realizing he could buy it for about half the actual price, purchased it and proudly showed it to his wife, pleased with his bargaining skills. However, he was quite embarrassed when his wife pointed out that it was, in fact, his own bird that had gone missing the night before. The seller was a Korava.”

In 1903, a gang of Koravas, travelling in the guise of pūjāris, was arrested at Puri. The Police discovered that a warrant remained unexecuted against one of them, who had been concerned in a dacoity case in North Arcot many years previously. The report of the case states that “cognate with the Kepmaries is a class of Korava pūjāris (as they call themselves in their own village), who, emanating from one small hamlet in the Tanjore district, are spread more or less all over India. There are, or were until the other day, and probably are still some of them in Cuttack, Balasore, Midnapūr, Ahmedabad, Patna, Bombay, Secunderabad, and other places. One of them attained a high position in Bombay. Their ostensible profession is that of curing piles and fistulas, but it is noticeable that, sooner or later after their taking up their abode at any place, the Kepmaries are to be found somewhere near, and the impression, which is not quite a certainty but very nearly so, is that they play the convenient rôle of receivers of property stolen by the Kepmaries.” Kēpmari is regarded as a very strong term of abuse, indicating, as it does, a rogue of the worst character. In the southern districts, the Kāsukkar Chettis and Shānāns are said to be very much trusted by the Koravas in the disposal of property.

In 1903, a group of Koravas pretending to be pūjāris was arrested in Puri. The police found out that there was an outstanding warrant against one of them, who had been involved in a robbery case in North Arcot many years earlier. The report on the case states that “related to the Kepmaries is a group of Korava pūjāris (as they refer to themselves in their village), who, originating from a small hamlet in the Tanjore district, are found scattered across India. There are, or were until recently, and likely still are, some of them in Cuttack, Balasore, Midnapūr, Ahmedabad, Patna, Bombay, Secunderabad, and other places. One of them gained a significant position in Bombay. Their claimed profession is treating piles and fistulas, but it's noticeable that sooner or later after they settle in a place, the Kepmaries are found nearby, leading to the belief, which is almost certain, that they act as receivers for property stolen by the Kepmaries.” Kēpmari is considered a very strong term of insult, signifying a rogue of the worst kind. In the southern districts, the Kāsukkar Chettis and Shānāns are said to be highly trusted by the Koravas in handling property.

It is noted by Mr. H. A. Stuart195 that the Koravas or Yerukalas are a vagrant tribe found throughout the Presidency, and in many parts of India. In the Telugu [441]country they are called Yerukalavāndlu or Korachavāndlu, but they always speak of themselves as Kurru, and there is not the slightest room for the doubt that has been expressed regarding the identity of the Koravas and Yerukalas. Several derivations of Yerukala have been proposed by Wilson and others. It has been suggested, for example, that yeru is connected with erra, meaning red. In Telugu Yerukalavāndlu would mean fortune-tellers, and Dr. Oppert suggests that this is the origin of the name Yerukala. He says196 “it is highly probable that the name and the occupation of the fortune-telling Kuruvāndlu or Kuluvāndlu induced the Telugu people to call this tribe Yerukulavāndlu. Dr. Oppert further connects Kurru with the root ku, a mountain; and, in a Tamil work of the ninth century,197 Kurru or Kura (Kuramagal) is given as the name of a hill tribe.” A strong argument in favour of the caste name being connected with the profession of fortune-telling is afforded by the fact that women go about the streets, calling out “Yeruko, amma, yeruku,” i.e., prophecies, mother, prophecies. The Kuravas are, Mr. Francis writes,198 “a gipsy tribe found all over the Tamil country, but chiefly in Kurnool, Salem, Coimbatore and South Arcot. Kuravas have usually been treated as being the same as the Yerukalas. Both castes are wandering gipsies, both live by basket-making and fortune-telling, both speak a corrupt Tamil, and both may have sprung from one original stock. It is noteworthy in this connection that the Yerukalas are said to call one another Kurru or Kura. But their names are not used as interchangeable in the districts where each is found, and there seem to be no real differences between [442]the two bodies. They do not intermarry, or eat together. The Kuravas are said to tie a piece of thread soaked in turmeric water round the bride’s neck at weddings, while Yerukalas use a necklace of black beads. The Yerukalas have a tradition that those who went to fetch the tāli and pipe never returned, and they consequently use black beads as a substitute for the tāli, and a bell for the pipe. The Kuravas worship Subramanya, the son of Siva, while the Yerukalas worship Vishnu in the form of Venkateswara and his wife Lakshmi. It may be noted that, in a very early Sanskrit drama, the Brāhman thief mocks Subramanya as being the patron saint of thieves. The Kuravas treat the gentler sex in a very casual manner, mortgaging or selling their wives without compunction, but the Yerukalas are particular about the reputation of their womankind, and consider it a serious matter if any of them return home without an escort after sunset. The statistics of this year accordingly show Yerukalas separately from Koravas. The reports from the various districts, however, give such discrepant accounts of both castes, that the matter is clearly in need of further enquiry.” There is no district in the Madras Presidency or elsewhere, where both Koravas and Yerukalas live, unless it be the smallest possible corner of the Coimbatore district bordering on the south-east of Mysore, for the name Korcha intervenes; and, for a wide strip of country including the north of the North Arcot district and south of the Cuddapah district, the Korava is known as a Korcha, and the Census Superintendent, in common with other authorities, has admitted these names to be synonymous. It is in the north of the Cuddapah district that the Yerukalas first appear in co-existence with the Korcha. The Korcha being admitted on all sides to be the same [443]as the Korava, our doubt regarding the identity of the Korava with the Yerukala will be disposed of if we can establish the fact that the Korcha and the Yerukala are the same. The Rev. J. Cain, writing199 about the Yerukalas of the Godāvari district, states that “among themselves they call each other Kuluvāru, but the Telugu people call them Erakavāru or Erakalavāru, and this name has been derived from the Telugu word eruka, which means knowledge or acquaintance, as they are great fortune-tellers.”

Mr. H. A. Stuart notes that the Koravas, or Yerukalas, are a wandering tribe found throughout the Presidency and in many parts of India. In the Telugu country, they are referred to as Yerukalavāndlu or Korachavāndlu, but they always refer to themselves as Kurru, and there's no doubt about the identification of the Koravas and Yerukalas. Several origins of the term Yerukala have been suggested by Wilson and others. For instance, it has been proposed that "yeru" is related to "erra," meaning red. In Telugu, Yerukalavāndlu translates to fortune-tellers, and Dr. Oppert suggests that this is where the name Yerukala comes from. He states, “it is highly probable that the name and the occupation of the fortune-telling Kuruvāndlu or Kuluvāndlu led the Telugu people to call this tribe Yerukulavāndlu.” Dr. Oppert further connects Kurru with the root "ku," meaning mountain; and in a Tamil work from the ninth century, Kurru or Kura (Kuramagal) is mentioned as the name of a hill tribe. A strong argument for the caste name being associated with the profession of fortune-telling is supported by the fact that women roam the streets, calling out “Yeruko, amma, yeruku,” meaning prophecies, mother, prophecies. According to Mr. Francis, “the Kuravas are a gypsy tribe found all over the Tamil country, but mainly in Kurnool, Salem, Coimbatore, and South Arcot. Kuravas are typically considered the same as the Yerukalas. Both groups are wandering gypsies, both survive by basket-making and fortune-telling, both speak a corrupted form of Tamil, and both may have originated from a single ancestral group. Notably, the Yerukalas are said to refer to each other as Kurru or Kura. However, these names are not interchangeable in the regions where each is located, and there seem to be no real differences between the two groups. They do not intermarry or eat together. The Kuravas reportedly tie a piece of thread soaked in turmeric water around the bride’s neck at weddings, while Yerukalas use a necklace of black beads. The Yerukalas have a tradition that those sent to fetch the tāli and pipe never returned, so they use black beads as a substitute for the tāli and a bell for the pipe. The Kuravas worship Subramanya, the son of Siva, while the Yerukalas worship Vishnu as Venkateswara and his wife Lakshmi. It's interesting to note that in an early Sanskrit drama, a Brahmin thief mocks Subramanya as the patron saint of thieves. The Kuravas treat women casually, mortgaging or selling their wives without hesitation, but the Yerukalas are concerned about their women's reputation and consider it serious if any of them return home without an escort after dark. This year's statistics show the Yerukalas separately from the Koravas. However, reports from various districts provide conflicting accounts of both castes, indicating that further investigation is needed. There is no district in the Madras Presidency or elsewhere where both Koravas and Yerukalas coexist, except perhaps the tiniest area of the Coimbatore district near the southeast of Mysore, due to the name Korcha intervening; and in a large area that includes the northern North Arcot district and the southern Cuddapah district, the Korava is known as Korcha, and the Census Superintendent, like other authorities, has recognized these names as synonymous. The Yerukalas first appear in the northern Cuddapah district alongside the Korcha. If we can establish that Korcha and Yerukala are the same, our uncertainty about the identity of Korava with Yerukala will be resolved. The Rev. J. Cain, writing about the Yerukalas of the Godāvari district, states that “among themselves they call each other Kuluvāru, but the Telugu people call them Erakavāru or Erakalavāru, and this name comes from the Telugu word eruka, meaning knowledge or acquaintance, as they are renowned fortune-tellers.”

Yerukalas.

Yerukalas.

Yerukalas.

According to Balfour,200 the Koravas, or a certain section of them, i.e., the Kunchi Koravas, were known as Yerkal Koravar, and they called the language they spoke Yerkal. The same authority, writing of the Yerkalwadu, alludes to them as Kurshiwanloo, and goes on to say that they style themselves Yerkal, and give the same appellation to the language in which they hold communication. The word Yerkal here undoubtedly stands for Yerukala, and Kurshi for Korcha. It is evident from this, supported by authorities such as Wilson, Campbell, Brown and Shortt, that the doubt mentioned by the Census Superintendent in regard to the identity of the Yerukala and Korava had not arisen when the Cyclopædia of India was published, and it is the subsequent reports of later investigators that are responsible for it. The divergencies of practices reported must be reckoned with, and accounted for. They may be due to local customs existing in widely separated areas. It is contended that the Koravas and Yerukalas do not intermarry or eat together. A Korava, who has made a permanent home in a village in the south, if asked whether he would marry a Yerukala, would most [444]certainly answer in the negative, probably having never heard of such a person. A circular letter, submitted to a number of Police Inspectors in several districts, produced the same sort of discrepant information complained of by the Census Superintendent. But one Inspector extracted from his notes the information that, in 1895, marriages took place between the southern Koravas of a gang from the Madura district and the Yerukalas of the Cuddapah district; and, further, that the son of one of a gang of Yerukalas in the Anantapur district married a Korcha girl from a gang belonging to the Mysore State. The consensus of opinion also goes to prove that they will eat together. Yerukalas undoubtedly place a string of black beads as a tāli round the bride’s neck on marriage occasions, and the same is used by the Koravas. Information concerning the use of a turmeric-dyed string came from only one source, namely, Hosūr in the Salem district, and it was necessary even here for the string to be furnished with a round bottu, which might be a bead. A plain turmeric-soaked thread appears to be more the exception than the rule. Yerukalas are both Vaishnavites and Saivites, and a god worshipped by any one gang cannot be taken as a representative god for the whole class. Yerukalas may treat their womankind better than the southern Koravas, but this is only a matter of degree, as the morals of both are slack. The Yerukalas, occupying, as they do, the parched centre of the peninsula, more frequently devastated by famine than the localities occupied by the Koravas, may have learnt in a hard school the necessity of taking care of their wives; for, if they allowed them to pass to another man, and a drought ruined his crop and killed the cattle, he would find it hard to procure another, the probability being that the price of wives [445]rises in a common ratio with other commodities in a time of scarcity.

According to Balfour, the Koravas, or a specific group of them, meaning the Kunchi Koravas, were referred to as Yerkal Koravar, and they called the language they spoke Yerkal. That same source mentions the Yerkalwadu, referring to them as Kurshiwanloo, and states that they identify themselves as Yerkal and use the same name for the language they communicate in. The term Yerkal clearly represents Yerukala, and Kurshi refers to Korcha. It’s clear from this, backed by experts like Wilson, Campbell, Brown, and Shortt, that the uncertainty noted by the Census Superintendent regarding the relationship between the Yerukala and Korava was not an issue when the Cyclopædia of India was published, and that later inquiries are what brought it about. The differences in practices reported must be acknowledged and explained. They could stem from local customs in various regions. It is argued that the Koravas and Yerukalas do not intermarry or dine together. A Korava living permanently in a village in the south, if asked whether he would marry a Yerukala, would most certainly respond negatively, likely having never encountered such an individual. A circular letter sent to several Police Inspectors in different districts yielded the same kind of inconsistent information that the Census Superintendent complained about. However, one Inspector noted that, in 1895, marriages occurred between the southern Koravas from a gang in the Madura district and the Yerukalas from the Cuddapah district; he also mentioned that the son of a Yerukala gang in the Anantapur district married a Korcha girl from a gang in Mysore State. The general opinion also suggests that they will share meals together. Yerukalas definitely use a string of black beads as a tāli around the bride’s neck during weddings, which is also done by the Koravas. Information regarding the use of a turmeric-dyed string came from only one source, specifically Hosūr in the Salem district, and even there, the string needed a round bottu, which could be a bead. A plain turmeric-soaked thread seems to be more of an exception than the standard. Yerukalas are both Vaishnavites and Saivites, and a deity worshipped by one group cannot be considered a representative god for the entire community. While Yerukalas may treat their women somewhat better than the southern Koravas, it's mostly a matter of degree, as the morals of both groups are lax. The Yerukalas, located in the dry central peninsula, which suffers more from famine than the regions occupied by the Koravas, may have learned from tough experiences the importance of caring for their wives; if they let them go to another man and a drought wrecked his crops and killed the cattle, he would struggle to find another, as the price of wives tends to rise with other goods during times of scarcity.

From the accounts given by them, it appears that the Koravas claim to have originated in mythological ages. The account varies slightly according to the locality, but the general outlines agree more or less with the story related in the Bhāgavātham. The purōhits, or priests, are the safest guides, and it was one of them who told the following story, culled, as he admitted, from the Sāstras and the Rāmāyana. When the great Vēnudu, son of Agneswathu, who was directly descended from Brahma, ruled over the universe, he was unable to procure a son and heir to the throne, and, when he died, his death was looked on as an irreparable misfortune. His body was preserved. The seven ruling planets sat in solemn conclave, and consulted as to what they should do. Finally they agreed to create a being from the right thigh of the deceased Vēnudu, and they accordingly fashioned and gave life to Nishudu. But their work was not successful, for Nishudu turned out to be not only deformed in body, but repulsively ugly in face. It was agreed at another meeting of the planets that he was not a fit person to be placed on the throne. So they set to work again, and created a being from the right shoulder of Vēnudu, and their second effort was crowned with success. They called the second creation Proothu Chakravarthi, and, as he gave general satisfaction, he was placed on the throne. This supersession naturally caused the first-born Nishudu to be discontented, and he sought a lonely place, in which he communed with the gods, begging of them the reason why they had created him if he was not to rule. The gods explained that he could not now be placed on the throne, as Chakravarthi had already been installed, but [446]that he should be a ruler over forests. In this capacity Nishudu begat the Bōyas, Chenchus, Yānādis, and Koravas. The Bōyas were his legitimate children, but the others were all illegitimate. It is because Nishudu watched in solemn silence to know his creator that some of his offspring called themselves Yerukalas (yeruka, to know). Another story explains the name Korava. When the princes Dharmarāja and Duryodana were at variance, the former, to avoid strife, went into voluntary exile. A woman who loved him set out in search of him, but, through fear of being identified, disguised herself as a fortune-teller. In this manner she found him, and their offspring became known as Koravas, from kuru, fortune-telling.

From their stories, it seems that the Koravas claim to have originated in ancient myths. The accounts vary a bit depending on the area, but the main details more or less align with what's told in the Bhāgavātham. The purōhits, or priests, are the most reliable sources, and it was one of them who shared the following tale, taken, as he confessed, from the Sāstras and the Rāmāyana. When the great Vēnudu, son of Agneswathu, who was a direct descendant of Brahma, ruled the universe, he couldn’t have a son to inherit the throne. When he died, his death was seen as a huge loss. They preserved his body. The seven ruling planets held a serious meeting to figure out what to do. In the end, they decided to create a being from Vēnudu’s right thigh, and so they made Nishudu. Unfortunately, their efforts didn’t go well, as Nishudu ended up not only deformed but also very ugly. At another gathering, the planets agreed he wasn’t suitable to be put on the throne. So, they tried again, creating a being from Vēnudu’s right shoulder, and their second attempt was successful. They named this second creation Proothu Chakravarthi, and since he was well-received, he was placed on the throne. Naturally, this made the firstborn Nishudu unhappy, so he sought a secluded place where he communicated with the gods, asking why he was created if he wasn’t meant to rule. The gods explained that he couldn’t take the throne now that Chakravarthi had already been crowned, but that he would be a leader of the forests. In this role, Nishudu fathered the Bōyas, Chenchus, Yānādis, and Koravas. The Bōyas were his legitimate children, while the others were not. It’s said that some of his descendants called themselves Yerukalas (yeruka, to know) because Nishudu silently sought to know his creator. Another story explains the name Korava. When princes Dharmarāja and Duryodana were in conflict, Dharmarāja voluntarily went into exile to prevent fighting. A woman who loved him set out to find him but, to avoid being recognized, disguised herself as a fortune-teller. In this way, she located him, and their children were known as Koravas, from kuru, fortune-telling.

The appellation Koracha or Korcha appears to be of later date than Korava, and is said to be derived from the Hindustani kori (sly), korri nigga (sly look) becoming corrupted into Korcha. Whenever this name was applied to them, they had evidently learnt their calling thoroughly, and the whole family, in whatever direction its branches spread, established a reputation for cunning in snaring animals or birds, or purloining other peoples’ goods, until to-day their names are used for the purpose of insulting abuse in the course of a quarrel. Thus a belligerant might call the other a thieving Yerukala, or ask, in tones other than polite, if he belongs to a gang of Korchas. In the Tamil country, a man is said to kura-kenju, or cringe like a Korava, and another allusion to their dishonesty is kurapasāngu, to cheat like a Korava. The proverb “Kuruvan’s justice is the ruin of the family” refers to the endless nature of their quarrels, the decision of which will often occupy the headmen for weeks together.

The term Koracha or Korcha seems to have originated later than Korava, and it’s believed to come from the Hindustani word kori (sly) and korri nigga (sly look), which eventually morphed into Korcha. Whenever this name was used for them, they had clearly mastered their trade, and the entire family, no matter how far its branches extended, built a reputation for being clever at trapping animals or birds, or stealing other people's belongings. Even today, their names are commonly used as insults during arguments. For instance, someone might call another a thieving Yerukala or, in a rude tone, ask if they're part of a gang of Korchas. In Tamil Nadu, a person is said to kura-kenju, or cringe like a Korava, and another reference to their dishonesty is kurapasāngu, meaning to cheat like a Korava. The saying “Kuruvan’s justice is the ruin of the family” highlights the never-ending nature of their disputes, which often keep the community leaders occupied for weeks at a time.

In communicating among themselves, the Koravas and Yerukalas speak a corrupt polyglot, in which the words [447]derived from several languages bear little resemblance to the original. Their words appear to be taken chiefly from Tamil, Telugu, and Canarese. A short vocabulary of the Yerukala language has been published by the Rev. J. Cain.201 The Yerukalas call this language Oodra, which seems to stand for gibberish or thieves’ slang, or, as they explain, something very hard to understand. Oriya or Oodra is the language of the districts of Ganjam and Orissa. The word Oriya means north, and the fact that the Yerukalas call their language Oodra would seem to confirm their belief that they are a northern tribe. The wanderers always know more than one language colloquially, and are able to make themselves understood by the people of the country through which they may be passing. Those who have settled in villages invariably speak the language of the locality. When talking among themselves, they call a Brāhman Thanniko Koravan, or the bathing Korava. They consider the Brāhmans to be more cunning than themselves, and, as they are fond of bathing to remove pollution, they have given them this nickname.

In their communications, the Koravas and Yerukalas use a mix of languages that is hard to follow, with words [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] drawn from various languages that don't look much like the originals. Most of their vocabulary comes from Tamil, Telugu, and Kannada. Rev. J. Cain has published a brief vocabulary of the Yerukala language.201 The Yerukalas refer to this language as Oodra, which seems to mean gibberish or thieves’ slang, or as they put it, something very difficult to understand. Oriya or Oodra is the language spoken in the Ganjam and Orissa regions. The word Oriya means north, and the fact that the Yerukalas call their language Oodra suggests they see themselves as a northern tribe. The wanderers typically know several languages and can communicate with locals wherever they go. Those who have settled in villages usually speak the local language. When they talk among themselves, they refer to a Brāhman as Thanniko Koravan, or the bathing Korava. They view the Brāhmans as more cunning than themselves, and since the Brāhmans enjoy bathing to cleanse themselves, they have given them this nickname.

Korava.

Korava.

Korava.

A detailed account of the Korava slang and patois has been published by Mr. F. Fawcett, Deputy Inspector-General of Police,202 from whose note thereon the following examples are taken:—

A detailed account of the Korava slang and dialect has been published by Mr. F. Fawcett, Deputy Inspector-General of Police,202 from whose notes the following examples are taken:—

Constable Erthalakayadu. Red-headed man.
Head constable Kederarilu. The man who rides on an ass.
Taking bribe Kalithindrathu. Eating rāgi food.
Toddy Uggu perumalu ollaithanni. White water, or good water.
Fowls Rendukal Naidu. The Naidu of two legs.
Mussalmans Arthupottavungo. Those who have cut (circumcised).[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
Pariah Ūtharalu keenjalu. The man that pipes.
Butcher’s knife Elamayarathe bottarathu. That for striking those that graze leaves.
Rupees Pālakanna. Milk eyes.
Ollakelluka. White pebbles.

Korava society is purely patriarchal, and, in whatever division or sept of the caste a Korava may be born, he has to subordinate himself to the will of his elders or the leaders of his particular gang. The head of a gang is called the Peru Manusan or Beriya Manasan (big man). He is selected principally because of his age, intelligence, and the influence he commands amongst the members of the gang. It is a post which carries with it no remuneration whatever, but the holder presides at all consultations, and is given the position of honour at all social functions.

Korava society is strictly patriarchal, and regardless of the division or group within the caste a Korava is born into, he must submit to the authority of his elders or the leaders of his specific gang. The leader of a gang is known as the Peru Manusan or Beriya Manasan (big man). He is chosen primarily for his age, intelligence, and the respect he has among the gang members. This role comes with no pay, but the leader oversees all discussions and is given a place of honor at all social events.

Concerning the caste government, Mr. Fawcett writes that “the kulam or caste assembly adjudicates claims, inflicts penalties, ejects individuals from the caste, or readmits them thereto. Free drinking of toddy at the expense of one of the parties accompanies every caste assembly. It is the aggrieved party who gives notice for assembly of the kulam. The disputants join hands, thereby indicating to the kulam that their dispute should be decided by them. Each pays one rupee. The kulam may decide the dispute at once, or adjourn for further consideration at any time. The next meeting is called the second joining of hands, when each pays one rupee, as before, to be spent in toddy. A man who fails to attend when the kulam has been convened loses his caste absolutely. If there is a third adjournment, that is a third joining of hands, each side pays Rs. 3½ for toddy, to keep the kulam in good spirits. As this is always the final adjournment, the decision is sometimes [449]arrived at by means of an ordeal. An equal quantity of rice is placed in two pots of equal weight having a quantity of water, and there is an equal quantity of firewood. The judges satisfy themselves most carefully as to quantity, weights, and so on. The water is boiled, and the man whose rice boils first is declared to be the winner of the dispute. The loser is to recoup the winner all his expenses. It sometimes happens that both pots boil at the same time; then a coin is to be picked out of a pot containing boiling oil. There is yet another method of settling disputes about money. The amount claimed is brought by one party, and placed beside an idol. The claimant is then asked to take it, and, should nothing unpleasant happen to him or to his family afterwards, he is declared to have made out his claim. The kulam has nothing whatever to do with planning the execution of offences, but is sometimes called upon to decide about the division of plunder, as, for instance, when any member of a criminal expedition improperly secretes something for himself. But they engage vakils (pleaders) for defending members of the gang who are charged with a criminal offence, whether they have been concerned in it or not.”

Concerning the caste system, Mr. Fawcett writes that “the kulam or caste assembly settles disputes, imposes penalties, expels individuals from the caste, or readmits them. Free tody drinking at the expense of one of the parties accompanies every caste assembly. The aggrieved party requests a meeting of the kulam. The disputants join hands, indicating to the kulam that they want the dispute resolved by them. Each pays one rupee. The kulam may resolve the dispute immediately or postpone it for further discussion at any time. The next meeting is known as the second joining of hands, where each pays one rupee again, to be spent on toddy. A man who fails to show up when the kulam is called loses his caste completely. If there is a third adjournment, called the third joining of hands, each side pays Rs. 3½ for toddy, to keep the kulam cheerful. Since this is always the final adjournment, the decision is sometimes reached through an ordeal. An equal amount of rice is placed in two identical pots with an equal amount of water and firewood. The judges meticulously check the quantities, weights, and so on. The water is boiled, and the person whose rice cooks first is declared the winner of the dispute. The loser must reimburse the winner for all expenses. Occasionally, both pots boil at the same time; in that case, a coin must be retrieved from a pot of boiling oil. There is another way to settle monetary disputes. The amount being claimed is brought by one party and placed beside an idol. The claimant is then asked to take it, and if nothing unfortunate happens to him or his family afterward, he is deemed to have proven his claim. The kulam has nothing to do with planning the execution of offenses but is sometimes called upon to decide on the distribution of stolen goods, for instance, when a member of a criminal group wrongfully keeps something for himself. However, they hire vakils (lawyers) to defend members of the group who are charged with a crime, whether they were involved in it or not.”

There are a great many classes of Koravas, most of them obtaining their names from the particular occupations they have followed as an ostensible means of livelihood for many generations. But, whatever they may call themselves, they all, according to Mr. Mainwaring, fall within three divisions, viz.:—

There are many types of Koravas, most of them getting their names from the specific jobs they have held as their main source of income for many generations. However, regardless of what they refer to themselves as, they all, according to Mr. Mainwaring, fit into three categories, namely:—

  • 1. Sakai, Sampathi, Sāthupadi.
  • 2. Kāvadi or Gujjula.
  • 3. Dēvarakonda, Mendrakutti, or Menapadi.

The members of the first two divisions are pure Koravas, the legitimate descendants of Koravas who [450]have never married outside the caste, whereas the third division represents and includes the mixed marriages, and the offspring thereof. The Koravas receive into their ranks members of castes other than Paraiyans (including Mālas and Mādigas), Yānādis, Mangalas, and Tsākalas. The ceremony of introduction into the Korava community consists in burning the tongue with a piece of gold. The Koravas have a strong objection to taking food touched by Mēdaras, because, in their professional occupation of doing wicker-work, they use an awl which resembles the tool used by Mādigas in shoe-making. The Koravas are said to be divided into two large families, which they call Pōthu and Pēnti, meaning male and female. All the families included in the first division noted above are Pōthu, and those in the second Pēnti. The families in the third division, being the product of mixed marriages, and the position of females being a lowly one, they are also considered to be Pēnti. The Pōthu section is said to have arisen from men going in search of brides for themselves, and the Pēntis from men going in search of husbands for their daughters. When a Korava, male or female, wishes to marry, a partner must be sought in a division other than their own. For example, a Korava of the first division is bound to marry a female belonging to the second or third division, who, after marriage, belongs to her husband’s division. This may be a little hard on the women of the first division, because they are bound to descend in the social scale. However, their daughters can rise by marrying into the first division. For the purpose of religious ceremonies, each division has fixed duties. The members of the first division have the right of decorating the god, and dressing him in his festival attire. Those of the second division carry the god and the regalia in procession, and [451]burn incense, and those of the third drag the temple car, and sing and shout during its progress. For this reason, it is said, they are sometimes called Bandi (cart).

The members of the first two divisions are pure Koravas, the legitimate descendants of Koravas who [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] have never married outside their caste, while the third division includes those from mixed marriages and their descendants. The Koravas accept members from other castes besides Paraiyans (including Mālas and Mādigas), Yānādis, Mangalas, and Tsākalas. The initiation ceremony into the Korava community involves burning the tongue with a piece of gold. The Koravas strongly reject food touched by Mēdaras because, in their traditional wicker-making trade, they use an awl that is similar to the tool Mādigas use in shoemaking. The Koravas are said to be split into two major families, known as Pōthu and Pēnti, meaning male and female. All families in the first division mentioned above are Pōthu, while those in the second are Pēnti. Families in the third division, products of mixed marriages, are also considered Pēnti due to the lower status of females. The Pōthu section is believed to have formed from men searching for brides for themselves, while the Pēntis originated from men looking for husbands for their daughters. When a Korava, male or female, wants to marry, they must find a partner from a different division. For instance, a Korava from the first division has to marry a female from the second or third division, who then joins her husband's division after marriage. This arrangement can be challenging for women in the first division because they have to marry into a lower social status. However, their daughters can improve their status by marrying into the first division. For religious ceremonies, each division has specific duties. Members of the first division have the right to decorate the god and dress him in festival attire. Members of the second division carry the god and the regalia in procession, and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] burn incense, while those of the third division drag the temple car and sing and shout during the procession. For this reason, they are sometimes referred to as Bandi (cart).

“The major divisions,” Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu writes, “are four in number, and according to their gradation they are Sāthepāti, Kāvadi, Mānapāti, Mendragutti. They are all corrupted Tamil words.

“The major divisions,” Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu writes, “are four in number, and according to their gradation they are Sāthepāti, Kāvadi, Mānapāti, Mendragutti. They are all corrupted Tamil words.

“1. Sāthepāti is a corruption of Sāthupādi, which means adorning a Hindu deity with flowers, jewels and vestments.

“1. Sāthepāti is a distorted version of Sāthupādi, which means decorating a Hindu god with flowers, jewels, and clothes.

“2. Kāvadi, meaning a pole carried on the shoulders with two baskets pendant from its ends, in which are contained offerings for a deity or temple.

“2. Kāvadi, which refers to a pole carried on the shoulders with two baskets hanging from its ends, that hold offerings for a deity or temple.”

“3. Mānapāti is a corruption of Mānpadi, which means singing in praise of god, when He is worshipped in a temple.

“3. Mānapāti is a variation of Mānpadi, which means singing in praise of God when He is worshipped in a temple.”

“4. Mendragutti is a corruption of Menrikutti, which means stitching a pair of shoes, and presenting them to the temple—a custom still prevalent at Tirupati and other important shrines.

“4. Mendragutti is a twisted version of Menrikutti, which means stitching a pair of shoes and giving them to the temple—a tradition that’s still common at Tirupati and other major shrines.

“Of these four divisions, the first two are, or rather were, considered superior to the other two, a Kāvadi man being styled Pōthuvādu (man), and a Sāthepāti man Pēnti (female).”

“Of these four divisions, the first two are, or rather were, considered superior to the other two, a Kāvadi man being called Pōthuvādu (man), and a Sāthepāti man Pēnti (female).”

A still further classification of divisions and sub-divisions is given by Mr. F. S. Mullaly.203 I am informed by Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao that, in the Vizagapatam district, the Yerukalas are divided into Pattapu or Oddē, and Thurpu (eastern). Of these, the former, when they are prosperous, live in tiled houses, while the latter live in huts. Pattapu women wear brass bangles on both wrists, and Thurpu women brass bangles on the right [452]wrist, and glass bangles on the left. The former throw the end of their cloth over the left shoulder, and the latter over the right.

A further classification of divisions and sub-divisions is provided by Mr. F. S. Mullaly. I have been informed by Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao that, in the Vizagapatam district, the Yerukalas are split into Pattapu or Oddē, and Thurpu (eastern). Among these, the former, when they are doing well, live in tiled houses, while the latter reside in huts. Pattapu women wear brass bangles on both wrists, while Thurpu women wear brass bangles on the right wrist and glass bangles on the left. Pattapu women drape the end of their cloth over their left shoulder, whereas Thurpu women drape it over their right.

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Trichinopoly district, that “the Kuravans are divided into a number of endogamous sections, of which the Īna Kuravans and the Kāvalkāran Kuravans are the most criminal, especially the latter. The latter are also called the Marasa, Mondu, and Kādukutti Kuravans. In dress and appearance the Nāmakkal Kuravans are said to be superior to those of Karūr, and to look like well-dressed Vellālans or Pallis. They are peculiar in wearing long ear-rings. They are also said to be much better thieves than the others, and to dislike having a Karūr Kuravan when breaking into a house, for fear he might wake the household by his clumsiness.”

It’s noted in the Gazetteer of the Trichinopoly district that “the Kuravans are split into several endogamous groups, with the Īna Kuravans and the Kāvalkāran Kuravans being the most notorious, particularly the latter. The latter are also known as the Marasa, Mondu, and Kādukutti Kuravans. In terms of clothing and appearance, the Nāmakkal Kuravans are said to be more refined than those from Karūr, resembling well-dressed Vellālans or Pallis. They are distinctive for wearing long earrings. They are also said to be more skilled thieves than the others and prefer not to have a Karūr Kuravan on a burglary, fearing he might disturb the household with his clumsiness.”

As examples of intipēru, or exogamous septs, the following, which were given by Uppu Yerukalas, may be cited:—

As examples of intipēru, or exogamous clans, the following, which were provided by Uppu Yerukalas, can be mentioned:—

  • Dāsari, Vaishnavite mendicant.
  • Sukka, star.
  • Kampa, bush of thorns.
  • Āvula, cows.
  • Thoka, tail.
  • Kānaga (Pongamia glabra).
  • Bandi, cart.
  • Gajjala, small bell.
  • Mogili (Pandanus fascicularis)
  • Uyyāla, swing.
  • Rāgala, rāgi grain.
  • Pūla, flowers.
  • Katāri, dagger.
  • Ambojala, lotus.
  • Samudrāla, sea.
  • Venkatagiri, a town.

“A knowledge,” Mr. Fawcett writes, “of these house or sept names may be useful in order to establish a man’s identity, as a Koravar, who is generally untruthful as to his own name, is seldom if ever so as regards his house or sept name, and his father’s name. He considers it shameful to lie about his parentage, ‘to be born to one, and yet to give out the name of another.’ [453]Totemism of some kind evidently exists, but it is rather odd that it has not always any apparent connection with the sept or house name. Thus, the totem of persons of the Konēti sept is horse-gram (kollu in Tamil), which they hold in veneration, and will not touch, eat, or use in any way. The totem of the Samudrāla sept is the conch shell, which likewise will not be used by those of the sept in any manner. It may be noted that persons of the Ramēswari sept will not eat tortoises, while those of the Konēti sept are in some manner obliged to do so on certain occasions.”

"A knowledge," Mr. Fawcett writes, "of these family or clan names may be helpful in determining a person's identity, as a Koravar, who is usually dishonest about his own name, rarely if ever lies about his family or clan name, and his father's name. He thinks it's shameful to lie about his lineage, 'to be born to one, and yet to claim the name of another.' [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Some form of totemism clearly exists, but it's rather strange that it doesn't always have an obvious connection to the clan or family name. For example, the totem of people from the Konēti clan is horse-gram (kollu in Tamil), which they regard highly and will not touch, eat, or use in any way. The totem of the Samudrāla clan is the conch shell, which those from the clan also refrain from using in any way. It's worth mentioning that members of the Ramēswari clan will not eat tortoises, while those from the Konēti clan are somehow required to do so on certain occasions."

As regards names for specific occupations among the Koravas, the Bīdar or nomad Koravas originally carried merchandise in the form of salt, tamarinds, jaggery (crude sugar or molasses), leaves of the curry leaf plant (Murraya Kœnigii) from place to place on pack-bullocks or donkeys. The leaves were in great demand, and those who brought them round for sale were called in Tamil Karuvaipillai, and in Telugu Karepāku, after the commodity which they carried. This is a common custom in India, and when driving through the bazār, one may hear, for example, an old woman carrying a bundle of wood addressed as firewood. “Kāvadi” will be screamed at a man carrying a pole (kāvadi) with baskets, etc., suspended from it, who got in the way of another. The section of Koravas who carried salt inland from the coast became known as Uppu (salt) Koravas. Another large class are the Thubba, Dhubbai, or Dhabbai (split bamboo) Koravas, who restrict their wanderings to the foot of hill ranges, where bamboos are obtainable. With these they make baskets for the storage of grain, for carrying manure at the bottom of carts, and various fancy articles. In the Kurnool district, the Yerukalas will only cut bamboos at the time of the new moon, as they are then [454]supposed to be free from attacks by boring weevils, and they do certain pūja (worship) to the goddess Malalamma, who presides over the bamboos. In the Nallamalai forests, the Yerukalas do not split the bamboo into pieces and remove the whole, but take off only a very thin strip consisting of the outer rind. The strips are made up into long bundles, which can be removed by donkeys. There is extreme danger of fire, because the inner portions of the bamboos, left all over the forest, are most inflammable.204 Instead of splitting the bamboos in the forest, and leaving behind a lot of combustible material, the Yerukalas now have to purchase whole bamboos, and take them outside the forest to split them. The members of a gang of these Yerukalas, who came before me at Nandyāl, were each carrying a long split bamboo wand as an occupational insigne. A further important section is that of the Kunchu or Kunchil Koravas, who gather roots in the jungle, and make them into long brushes which are used by weavers. The Koravas have a monopoly in their manufacture, and take pride in making good brushes. These Kunchu Koravas are excellent shikāris (hunters), and snare antelope, partridges, duck, quail, and other game with great skill. For the purpose of shooting antelopes, or of getting close enough to the young ones to catch them after a short run, they use a kind of shield made of dried twigs ragged at the edges, which looks like an enormous wind-blown bundle of grass. When they come in sight of a herd of antelopes, they rest one edge of the shield on the ground, and, sitting on their heels behind it, move it slowly forward towards the herd until they get sufficiently close to dash at the young ones, or shoot the [455]grown-up animals. The antelopes are supposed to mistake the shield for a bush, and to fail to notice its gradual approach. They capture duck and teal largely at night, and go to the rice fields below a tank (pond or lake), in which the crop is young, and the ground consequently not entirely obscured. This would be a likely feeding-ground, or traces of duck having fed there on the previous night might be noticed. They peg a creeper from one bund (mud embankment) to another, parallel to the tank bund, four inches above the water in the field. From this they suspend a number of running loops made of sinews drawn from the legs of sheep or goats or from the hind-legs of hares, the lower ends of the loops touching the mud under water. If the duck or teal come to feed, they are sure to be caught, and fall victims to the slip noose. “The Kuntsu (Kunchu) Korachas,” Mr. Francis tells us,205 “catch small birds by liming twigs or an arrangement of bits of bamboo with a worm hung inside it, or by setting horse-hair nooses round the nests. Quails they capture by freely snaring a piece of ground, and then putting a quail in a cage in the middle of it, to lure the birds towards the snare. They also catch them, and partridges too, by driving the bevy towards a collapsible net. To do this, they cover themselves with a dark blanket, conceal their heads in a kind of big hat made of hair, feathers and grass, and stalk the birds from a bullock trained to the work, very gradually driving them into the net. They also occasionally capture black-buck (antelope) by sending a tame buck with nooses on his horns to fight with a wild one. The latter speedily gets his horns entangled in the nooses, and is easily secured.” Sometimes the Kunchu [456]Korava begs in villages, dragging about with him a monkey, while the females earn a livelihood by tattooing, which occupation, known as pricking with green, has gained for them the name of Pacchai (green) Kutti. The patterns used in tattooing by a Korava woman, whom I interviewed, were drawn in a note-book, and consisted of fishes, scorpions, a fortress, five-storeyed house, conventional designs, etc. The patterns were drawn on the skin, with great dexterity and skill in freehand drawing, by means of a blunt stick dipped in a mixture of a lamp-black, lamp-oil, and turmeric contained in a half cocoanut shell. The pattern is pricked in with a bundle of four or five needles tied together. The needles and drawing-stick were kept in a hollow bamboo, and the tattooing mixture in the scooped out fruits of the bael (Ægle Marmelos) and palmyra palm (Borassus flabellifer). For tattooing an entire upper extremity, at several sittings, the Korava woman would be paid from eight to twelve annas, or receive food-grains in lieu of money. The hot weather is said to be more favourable for the operation than the cold season, as the swelling after it is less. To check this, lamp-oil, turmeric, and leaves of the avarai plant (Dolichos Lablab) are applied.

As for names for specific jobs among the Koravas, the Bīdar or nomad Koravas originally transported goods like salt, tamarinds, jaggery (a type of crude sugar or molasses), and curry leaves (Murraya Kœnigii) from one place to another on pack-bullocks or donkeys. The leaves were in high demand, and those who sold them were referred to in Tamil as Karuvaipillai and in Telugu as Karepāku, based on the goods they carried. This is a common practice in India, and while walking through the bazaar, you might hear an old woman with a bundle of wood called just that—firewood. A man with a pole (kāvadi) carrying baskets might be yelled at as “Kāvadi” if he gets in someone’s way. The Koravas who transported salt from the coast inland became known as Uppu (salt) Koravas. Another large group is the Thubba, Dhubbai, or Dhabbai (split bamboo) Koravas, who mainly stick to the foot of hill ranges where bamboo is available. They use bamboo to make baskets for storing grain, carrying manure at the bottom of carts, and crafting various decorative items. In the Kurnool district, the Yerukalas only cut bamboo during the new moon phase, believing it's free from weevil infestations, and they perform a ritual (pūja) to the goddess Malalamma, who is associated with bamboo. In the Nallamalai forests, the Yerukalas don’t split bamboo into pieces but take only a thin strip of the outer rind. These strips are bundled into long packages that can be carried by donkeys. There's a significant fire hazard because the inner parts of the bamboo, which are left scattered across the forest, are highly flammable. Instead of splitting bamboo in the forest and leaving behind a lot of combustible debris, the Yerukalas now have to buy whole bamboos and take them out of the forest to split them. Members of a gang of Yerukalas I saw in Nandyāl were each carrying a long split bamboo rod as a sign of their trade. Another crucial group is the Kunchu or Kunchil Koravas, who gather roots in the jungle and turn them into long brushes that weavers use. The Koravas have a monopoly on brush-making and take pride in their craftsmanship. The Kunchu Koravas are skilled hunters (shikāris) who can trap antelope, partridges, ducks, quails, and other game very adeptly. To hunt antelopes or to get close to the young ones for catching after a short chase, they use a shield made of dried twigs, ragged at the edges, which looks like a big bundle of wind-blown grass. When they spot a herd of antelopes, they rest one edge of the shield on the ground and, crouching behind it, move it slowly toward the herd until they get close enough to dash at the young ones or shoot the grown ones. The antelopes are thought to mistake the shield for a bush and not notice its slow approach. They catch ducks and teal mainly at night, heading to the rice fields near a tank (pond or lake) where the crop is young and not entirely concealed. This area is a likely feeding ground, or they might see signs of ducks having fed there the previous night. They stretch a creeper from one embankment to another, parallel to the tank's edge, about four inches above the water in the field. From this, they hang several running loops made from sinews taken from the legs of sheep or goats or from the hind legs of hares, with the lower ends of the loops touching the mud underwater. If ducks or teal come to feed, they'll be captured by the slip noose. “The Kunchu Korachas,” Mr. Francis tells us, “catch small birds by using limed twigs or bamboo arrangements with a worm inside, or by setting horse-hair nooses around nests. They capture quails by freely snaring a piece of ground and then placing a quail in a cage in the middle to attract other birds. They also catch partridges by driving them into a collapsible net. For this, they cover themselves with a dark blanket and hide their heads under a large hat made of hair, feathers, and grass, sneaking up on the birds from a bullock trained for this purpose, gradually pushing them into the net. They occasionally also catch blackbuck (antelope) by sending a tame buck with nooses on its horns to challenge a wild one. The wild buck quickly gets its horns caught in the nooses and is easily captured.” Sometimes the Kunchu [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Korava begs in villages, bringing along a monkey, while the women make a living through tattooing, a practice known as pricking with green, granting them the nickname Pacchai (green) Kutti. The tattoo designs used by a Korava woman I spoke with were illustrated in a notebook and included images of fish, scorpions, a fortress, a five-story house, and other conventional patterns. The designs were applied to the skin with great dexterity using a blunt stick dipped in a mixture of lamp-black, lamp-oil, and turmeric, kept in a half coconut shell. The pattern is pricked in using a bundle of four or five needles tied together. The needles and drawing stick were stored in a hollow bamboo, while the tattooing mixture was kept in scooped-out fruits of the bael (Ægle Marmelos) and palmyra palm (Borassus flabellifer). For tattooing an entire arm, a Korava woman would receive between eight to twelve annas, or food grains in exchange for money, over several sessions. It’s said that hot weather is better for tattooing than cold as it causes less swelling after the process. To reduce this, they apply lamp-oil, turmeric, and leaves from the avarai plant (Dolichos Lablab).

Concerning the Pacchaikuttis, or, as they are also called, Gadde (soothsayers), Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu writes that “the women start with a basket and a winnowing basket or tray into a village, proclaiming their ostensible profession of tattooing and soothsaying, which they do for grain or money. When unfortunate village women, who always lose children or who often fall ill, see these Gadde women moving about, they call them into their houses, make them sit, and, pouring some grain into their baskets, ask them about their past [457]misery and future lot. These women, who are sufficiently trained to speak in suitable language, are clever enough to give out some yarns in equivocal terms, so that the anxious women, who hope for better futurity, understand them in the light uppermost in their own minds. The Korava women will be rewarded duly, and doubly too, for they never fail to study the nature of the house all the time, to see if it offers a fair field for booty to their men.”

Concerning the Pacchaikuttis, or as they are also called, Gadde (soothsayers), Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu writes that “the women enter a village with a basket and a winnowing tray, announcing their supposed profession of tattooing and soothsaying, which they do in exchange for grain or money. When unfortunate women in the village, who often lose children or frequently become ill, see these Gadde women moving around, they invite them into their homes, have them sit down, and, pouring some grain into their baskets, ask them about their past struggles and future prospects. These women, who are well-trained in appropriate language, are smart enough to weave stories in ambiguous terms, so that the anxious women, who hope for a better future, interpret them in a way that aligns with their own thoughts. The Korava women will be compensated well, and even more so, because they always pay attention to the nature of the house to see if it provides an opportunity for their men.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

At Srungavarapukōta in the Vizagapatam district “the local goddess, Yerakamma, is a deification of a woman who committed sati. Ballads are sung about her, which say that she was the child of Dāsari parents, and that her birth was foretold by a Yerukala woman (whence her name) who prophesied that she would have the gift of second sight. She eventually married, and one day she begged her husband not to go to his field, as she was sure he would be killed by a tiger if he did. Her husband went notwithstanding, and was slain as she had foreseen. She committed sati on the spot where her shrine still stands.”206

At Srungavarapukōta in the Vizagapatam district, the local goddess, Yerakamma, represents a woman who committed sati. Ballads tell her story, saying that she was born to Dāsari parents and that a Yerukala woman predicted her birth, foretelling that she would have the gift of second sight. She eventually got married, and one day she urged her husband not to go to the fields because she was certain he would be killed by a tiger if he did. Despite her warnings, her husband went and was killed, just as she had predicted. She committed sati at the spot where her shrine still stands.206

The Ūr or village Koravas have given up their nomad life, and settled in villages of their own, or together with other communities. Many of them have attended pial schools, and can read and write to some extent. Some of them are employed in the police and salt departments, as jail warders, etc. The Ūr Korava is fast losing his individuality, and assimilating, in dress, manners and customs, the ryots among whom he dwells. In the Salem district there is a village called Koravūr, which is inhabited entirely by Koravas, who say that they were originally Uppu Koravas, but now cultivate their [458]own lands, or work as agricultural labourers for the land-owners. They say further that they pay an occasional visit to Madras for the purpose of replenishing their stock of coral and beads, which they sell at local shandis (markets). Some Koravas are said to buy gilded beads at Madura, and cheat unsuspecting villagers by selling them as gold. Though the Ūr Koravas are becoming civilised, they have not yet lost their desire for other men’s goods, and are reported to be the curse of the Anantapur, Cuddapah, and Bellary districts, where they commit robbery, house-breaking, and theft, especially of sheep and cattle. A particularly bold sheep theft by them a few years ago is worthy of mention. The village of Singanamalla in the Anantapur district lies a few miles off the railway. It is bordered on two sides by Government forest reserves, into which the villagers regularly drove their sheep and goats to graze, in charge of small boys, in the frequent absences of the forest watcher, or when the watcher was well disposed towards them. An arrangement was made between the Koravas and a meat-supplier at Bangalore to deliver on his behalf a large number of sheep at a wayside station near Dharmāvaram, to receive which trucks had to be ready, and the transaction was purely cash. One morning, when more than a hundred sheep had been driven far into the reserve by their youthful charges, who kept more or less close together for the sake of company, a number of Koravas turned up, and represented themselves as forest watchers, captured the small boys, gagged them and tied them to trees, and drove off all the available sheep. The boys were not discovered till late at night, and the police did not get to work till the following morning, by which time the sheep were safely entrained for Bangalore. [459]

The Ūr or village Koravas have given up their nomadic lifestyle and settled in their own villages or alongside other communities. Many of them have attended local schools and can read and write to some extent. Some are employed in the police and salt departments as jail wardens and so on. The Ūr Korava is quickly losing his individuality and adopting the dress, manners, and customs of the farmers he lives among. In the Salem district, there is a village called Koravūr, which is entirely inhabited by Koravas, who claim they were originally Uppu Koravas, but now they farm their own lands or work as agricultural laborers for landowners. They also mention that they occasionally visit Madras to restock on coral and beads to sell at local markets. Some Koravas reportedly buy fake gold beads in Madura and trick unsuspecting villagers by selling them as real gold. Although the Ūr Koravas are becoming more civilized, they still have a strong desire for other people's goods and are said to be a plague in the Anantapur, Cuddapah, and Bellary districts, where they engage in robbery, house-breaking, and theft, especially of sheep and cattle. A particularly bold sheep theft by them a few years ago deserves mention. The village of Singanamalla in the Anantapur district is a few miles from the railway. It is surrounded on two sides by government forest reserves, where the villagers regularly took their sheep and goats to graze, overseen by small boys, especially during times when the forest watcher was absent or lenient. The Koravas made an arrangement with a meat supplier in Bangalore to deliver a large number of sheep to a wayside station near Dharmāvaram, requiring trucks to be ready for the cash transaction. One morning, after more than a hundred sheep had been herded deep into the reserve by the young boys, who stuck together for company, several Koravas showed up and pretended to be forest watchers. They captured the boys, gagged them, tied them to trees, and drove off with all the sheep. The boys weren't discovered until late at night, and the police didn't act until the next morning, by which time the sheep were already safely loaded onto trains for Bangalore. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

It is noted, in the Madras Police Report, 1905–1906, that “a large number of members of the notorious Rudrapād Koracha gangs have recently been released from His Highness the Nizam’s prisons, and their return will add appreciably to the difficulties of the Bellary Police.”

It is noted in the Madras Police Report, 1905–1906, that “a large number of members of the infamous Rudrapād Koracha gangs have recently been released from His Highness the Nizam’s prisons, and their return will significantly increase the challenges faced by the Bellary Police.”

A small class of Koravas is named Pāmula (snake), as they follow the calling of snake-charmers. In the Census Report, 1901, Pūsalavādu (seller of glass beads) and Utlavādu (makers of utlams) are given as sub-castes of Yerukala. An utlam is a hanging receptacle for pots, etc., made of palmyra fibre. In the same report, Kādukuttukiravar (those who bore a hole in the ear) and Valli Ammai Kūttam (followers of the goddess Valli Ammai) are returned as synonyms of Koravas. They claim that Valli Ammai, the wife of the god Subrahmanya, was a Korava woman. Old Tamil books refer to the Koravas as fortune-tellers to kings and queens, and priests to Subrahmanya. Some Koravas have, at times of census, returned themselves as Kūdaikatti (basket-making) Vanniyans. Balfour refers to Walaja Koravas, and states that they are musicians. They are probably identical with the Wooyaloo Koravas,207 whose duty it is to swing incense, and sing before the god during a religious celebration. The same writer speaks of Bajantri or Sonai Kolawaru and Kolla and Soli Korawars, and states that they inhabit the Southern Marātha country. These names, like Thōgamallai for Koravas who come from the village of that name in the Trichinopoly district, are probably purely local. Further, the Abbé Dubois states that “the third species of Kuravers is generally known under the name of Kalla [460]Bantru, or robbers. The last Muhammadan prince who reigned over Mysore is said to have employed a regular battalion of these men in time of war, not for the purpose of fighting, but to infest the enemy’s camp in the night, stealing away the horses and other necessaries of the officers, and acting as spies. They were awarded in proportion to the dexterity they displayed in these achievements, and, in time of peace, they were despatched into the various States of neighbouring princes, to rob for the benefit of their masters.” It is possible that the Kaikadis of the Central Provinces are identical with Koravas, who have migrated thither.

A small group of Koravas is called Pāmula (snake) because they follow the craft of snake-charming. In the Census Report of 1901, Pūsalavādu (seller of glass beads) and Utlavādu (makers of utlams) are listed as sub-castes of Yerukala. An utlam is a hanging container made from palmyra fiber, used for pots and other items. The same report mentions Kādukuttukiravar (those who pierced ears) and Valli Ammai Kūttam (followers of the goddess Valli Ammai) as synonyms for Koravas. They assert that Valli Ammai, the wife of the god Subrahmanya, was a Korava woman. Old Tamil texts describe the Koravas as fortune-tellers for kings and queens, as well as priests for Subrahmanya. Some Koravas have identified themselves as Kūdaikatti (basket-making) Vanniyans during census time. Balfour mentions Walaja Koravas, stating they are musicians. They are likely the same as the Wooyaloo Koravas, whose role is to swing incense and sing in front of the god during religious celebrations. This writer also refers to Bajantri or Sonai Kolawaru and Kolla and Soli Korawars, noting they live in the Southern Marātha region. These names, along with Thōgamallai for Koravas from that village in the Trichinopoly district, are likely purely local. Furthermore, Abbé Dubois states that “the third type of Kuravers is generally known as Kalla [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Bantru, or robbers. The last Muhammadan prince who ruled Mysore reportedly employed a regular battalion of these men during wars, not to fight, but to infiltrate the enemy’s camp at night, stealing the horses and supplies of the officers and acting as spies. They were rewarded based on how skillfully they executed these tasks, and in peacetime, they were sent to various states of neighboring princes to steal for their masters.” It’s possible that the Kaikadis of the Central Provinces are the same as Koravas who have migrated there.

A section of Koravas, called Koot (dancing) or Kōthee (monkey) Kaikaries, is referred to by Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu as “obtaining their living by prostitution. They also kidnap or sell children for this purpose. Some of the women of this class are thriving well in the Madras Presidency as experts in dancing. They are kept by rich people, and are called in the Telugu country Erukala Bōgamvaru, in Tamil Korava Thevidia. They also train monkeys, and show them to the public.”

A group of Koravas known as Koot (dancing) or Kōthee (monkey) Kaikaries is described by Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu as earning their living through prostitution. They also kidnap or sell children for this reason. Some women from this group are doing quite well in the Madras Presidency as skilled dancers. They are maintained by wealthy individuals and are referred to in the Telugu region as Erukala Bōgamvaru and in Tamil as Korava Thevidia. They also train monkeys and perform with them in public.

The household god of the Korava, which is as a rule very rudely carved, may be a representation of either Vishnu or Siva. As already noted, it is stated in the Census Report, 1901, that the Koravas worship Subrahmanya, the son of Siva, while the Yerukalas worship Vishnu in the form of Venkatēswara and his wife Lakshmi. They worship, in addition to these, Kolāpuriamma, Perumālaswāmi, and other appropriate deities, prior to proceeding on a depredatory expedition. Kolāpuriamma is the goddess of Kolhapūr, the chief town of the Native State of that name in the Bombay Presidency, who is famous in Southern India. Perumālswāmi, or Venkatēswara, is the god of Tirupati, the [461]great place of pilgrimage in the North Arcot district. The signs of a recent performance of worship by Koravas may prove an indication to the Police that they have been concerned in a dacoity, and act as a clue to detection thereof. They sacrifice sheep or goats once a year to their particular god on a Sunday or Tuesday, while those who worship Venkatēswara honour him on a Saturday, and break cocoanuts as an offering. All offerings presented to the gods are divided among those present, after the ceremonies have been completed. Venkatēswara is said to be sometimes represented, for the purpose of worship, by a brass vessel (kalasam) decorated with flowers, and bearing on it the Vaishnavite nāmam (sect mark). Its mouth is closed by a cocoanut, beneath which mango or betel leaves are placed. On the day appointed for the religious service, everything within the hut is thrown outside, and the floor is purified with cow-dung, and devices are drawn thereon. The brass vessel is set up, and offerings of large quantities of food are made to it. Some of this dedicated food (prasādam) must be given to all the inhabitants of the settlement. A lump of clay, squeezed into a conical shape, with a tuft of margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves does duty for Pōlēramma. In front thereof, three stones are placed. Pōlēramma may be worshipped close to, but not within, the hut. To her offerings of boiled rice (pongal) are made by fasting women. The manner in which the boiling food bubbles over from the cooking-pot is eagerly watched, and accepted as an omen for good or evil. In a note on the Coorroo, Balfour states208 that “they told me that, when they pray, they construct a small pyramid of clay, which they term Māriamma, [462]and worship it. The women had small gold and silver ornaments suspended from cords round their necks, which they said had been supplied to them by a goldsmith, from whom they had ordered figures of Māriamma. The form represented is that of the goddess Kāli. They mentioned that they had been told by their forefathers that, when a good man dies, his spirit enters the body of some of the better animals, as that of a horse or cow, and that a bad man’s spirit gives life to the form of a dog or jackal, but they did not seem to believe in it. They believe firmly, however, in the existence and constant presence of a principle of evil, who, they say, frequently appears, my informant having himself often seen it in the dusk of the evening assuming various forms, at times a cat, anon a goat, and then a dog, taking these shapes that it might approach to injure him.”

The household god of the Korava is usually carved quite roughly and can represent either Vishnu or Siva. As mentioned in the Census Report of 1901, the Koravas worship Subrahmanya, the son of Siva, while the Yerukalas worship Vishnu in the form of Venkatēswara along with his wife Lakshmi. In addition to these deities, they also worship Kolāpuriamma, Perumālaswāmi, and other appropriate gods before heading out on a looting expedition. Kolāpuriamma is the goddess of Kolhapūr, the main town of that name in the Bombay Presidency, well-known in Southern India. Perumālswāmi, or Venkatēswara, is the god of Tirupati, the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]major pilgrimage site in the North Arcot district. Signs of recent worship by the Koravas may indicate to the Police that they have participated in a robbery and serve as clues for investigation. They sacrifice sheep or goats once a year to their specific god on a Sunday or Tuesday, while those who worship Venkatēswara honor him on a Saturday and break coconuts as an offering. All offerings to the gods are shared among those present once the ceremonies are complete. Venkatēswara is sometimes represented during worship by a brass vessel (kalasam) decorated with flowers and marked with the Vaishnavite nāmam (sect mark). Its opening is covered with a coconut, underneath which are mango or betel leaves. On the designated day for the religious service, everything inside the hut is moved outside, and the floor is cleaned with cow dung, with designs drawn on it. The brass vessel is set up, and large quantities of food are offered to it. Some of this offered food (prasādam) must be given to all the residents of the settlement. A piece of clay, shaped into a cone with a tuft of margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, represents Pōlēramma. Three stones are placed in front of it. Pōlēramma may be worshipped nearby, but not inside the hut. Women fasting for her make offerings of boiled rice (pongal). They eagerly watch the way the boiling food bubbles over from the cooking pot, interpreting it as an omen of good or bad fortune. In a note on the Coorroo, Balfour states208 that “they told me that when they pray, they build a small pyramid of clay, which they call Māriamma, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]and worship it. The women wore small gold and silver ornaments hanging from cords around their necks, which they said were provided by a goldsmith, from whom they ordered figures of Māriamma. The form represented is that of the goddess Kāli. They mentioned that their ancestors told them that when a good person dies, their spirit enters the body of some of the better animals, like a horse or a cow, while a bad person's spirit animates the form of a dog or jackal, although they didn’t seem to truly believe in that. However, they firmly believe in the existence and constant presence of a principle of evil, which they say often appears. My informant claimed to have seen it several times in the evening dusk, taking on various forms, sometimes a cat, sometimes a goat, and then a dog, adopting these shapes to approach and harm him.”

The domestic god of the Koravas, in the southern districts, is said to be Sathavu, for whom a day of worship is set apart once in three or four years. The Koravas assemble, and, in an open place to the west of the village, a mud platform is erected, on which small bricks are spread. In front of the platform are placed a sickle, sticks, and arrack (liquor). Cocoanuts, plantain fruits, and rice are offered, and sheep sacrificed. Sandal and turmeric are poured over the bricks, and camphor is burnt. The proceedings terminate with a feast.

The local god of the Koravas, in the southern areas, is known as Sathavu, for whom a day of worship is dedicated every three or four years. The Koravas gather together, and in an open space to the west of the village, a mud platform is built, covered with small bricks. In front of the platform, there's a sickle, some sticks, and arrack (liquor). Offerings include coconuts, bananas, and rice, along with the sacrifice of a sheep. Sandalwood and turmeric are poured over the bricks, and camphor is burned. The event concludes with a feast.

The presiding goddess of the criminal profession of the Koravas is stated by Mr. M. Paupa Rao Naidu209 to be Moothēvi, the goddess of sleep, whom they dread and worship more than any other god or goddess of the [463]Hindu Pantheon. The object of this worship is twofold, one being to keep themselves vigilant, and the other to throw their victims off their guard. Moothēvi is invoked in their prayers to keep them sleepless while on their nefarious purpose bent, but withal to make their victims sufficiently sleepy over their property. This goddess is worshipped especially by females, who perform strange orgies periodically, to propitiate her. A secluded spot is preferred for performing these orgies, at which animal sacrifices are made, and there is distribution of liquor in honour of the goddess. The Edayapatti gang worship in addition the deity Ratnasabhapathy at Ayyamala. When prosecuted for a crime, the Koravan invokes his favourite deity to let him off with a whipping in the words ‘If the punishment of whipping be inflicted I shall adore the goddess.’

The main goddess of the criminal community of the Koravas is said by Mr. M. Paupa Rao Naidu209 to be Moothēvi, the goddess of sleep, who they fear and worship more than any other god or goddess in the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Hindu Pantheon. They worship her for two main reasons: one is to stay alert, and the other is to make their victims let their guard down. Moothēvi is called upon in their prayers to keep them awake while they pursue their illegal activities, while also making their victims drowsy about their belongings. This goddess is especially honored by women, who engage in strange rituals from time to time to appease her. They prefer secluded locations for these rituals, where animal sacrifices are made, and liquor is distributed in her honor. The Edayapatti gang also worships the deity Ratnasabhapathy at Ayyamala. When facing prosecution for a crime, a Koravan prays to his favorite deity to allow him to escape with just a whipping, saying, “If I must be whipped, I will worship the goddess.”

The following account of a peculiar form of human sacrifice by the Koravas in former days was given to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao by an old inhabitant of the village of Āsūr near Walajabad in the Chingleput district. A big gang settled at the meeting point of the three villages of Āsūr, Mēlputtūr, and Avalūr, on an elevated spot commanding the surrounding country. They had with them their pack-bullocks, each headman of the gang owning about two hundred head. The cow-dung which accumulated daily attracted a good many of the villagers, on one of whom the headmen fixed as their intended victim. They made themselves intimate with him, plied him with drink and tobacco, and gave him the monopoly of the cow-dung. Thus a week or ten days passed away, and the Koravas then fixed a day for the sacrifice. They invited the victim to visit them at dusk, and witness a great festival in honour of their caste goddess. At the appointed hour, the man went [464]to the settlement, and was induced to drink freely. Meanwhile, a pit, large enough for a man to stand upright in it, had been prepared. At about midnight, the victim was seized, and forced to stand in the pit, which was filled in up to his neck. This done, the women and children of the gang made off with their belongings. As soon as the last of them had quitted the settlement, the headmen brought a large quantity of fresh cow-dung, and placed a ball of it on the head of the victim. The ball served as a support for an earthen lamp, which was lighted. The man was by this time nearly dead, and the cattle were made to pass over his head. The headmen then made off, and, by daybreak, the whole gang had disappeared. The murdered man was found by the villagers, who have, since that time, scrupulously avoided the Koravas. The victim is said to have turned into a Munisvara, and for a long time troubled those who happened to go near the spot at noon or midnight. The Koravas are said to have performed the sacrifice so as to insure their cattle against death from disease. The ground, on which they encamped, and on which they offered the human sacrifice, is stated to have been barren prior thereto, and, as the result thereof, to have become very fertile.

The following story about a strange form of human sacrifice by the Koravas in the past was shared with Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao by an elderly resident of the village of Āsūr near Walajabad in the Chingleput district. A large group settled at the meeting point of the three villages of Āsūr, Mēlputtūr, and Avalūr, on a raised area that overlooked the surrounding land. They brought their pack-bullocks, with each headman owning around two hundred of them. The cow-dung that piled up daily attracted many villagers, and one of these villagers was chosen by the headmen as their intended victim. They befriended him, offered him drinks and tobacco, and let him take all the cow-dung he wanted. A week or ten days passed, and then the Koravas set a date for the sacrifice. They invited the victim to join them at dusk to witness a big festival in honor of their caste goddess. At the designated time, the man headed over to the settlement and was encouraged to drink a lot. Meanwhile, a pit, large enough for a man to stand in upright, had been dug. Around midnight, the victim was captured and forced to stand in the pit, which was filled up to his neck. After that, the women and children of the gang left with their belongings. Once the last of them had left the settlement, the headmen brought a large amount of fresh cow-dung and placed a ball of it on the victim's head. This ball served as a base for an earthen lamp that was lit. By this time, the man was nearly dead, and the cattle were made to walk over his head. The headmen then left, and by dawn, the entire group had vanished. The villagers found the murdered man, and since then, they have carefully avoided the Koravas. The victim is said to have turned into a Munisvara and for a long time disturbed anyone who went near the spot at noon or midnight. The Koravas are said to have carried out the sacrifice to protect their cattle from dying of disease. The ground where they camped and performed the human sacrifice is said to have been barren before, but as a result, it became very fertile.

It is said that Korava women invoke the village goddesses when they are telling fortunes. They use a winnowing fan and grains of rice in doing this, and prophesy good or evil, according to the number of grains found on the fan.210 They carry a basket, winnow, stick, and a wicker tray in which cowry shells are imbedded in a mixture of cow-dung, and turmeric. The basket represents Kolāpuriamma and the cowries [465]Pōlēramma. When telling fortunes, the Korava woman places on the basket the winnow, rice, betel leaves and areca nuts, and the wicker tray. Holding her client’s hand over the winnow, and moving it about, she commences to chant, and name all sorts of deities. From time to time she touches the hand of the person whose fortune is being told with the stick. The Korava women are very clever in extracting information concerning the affairs of a client before they proceed to tell her fortune.

It’s said that Korava women call upon the village goddesses when they tell fortunes. They use a winnowing fan and grains of rice for this, predicting good or bad outcomes based on the number of grains on the fan.210 They carry a basket, a winnowing stick, and a wicker tray filled with cowry shells embedded in a mix of cow dung and turmeric. The basket symbolizes Kolāpuriamma and the cowries represent [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Pōlēramma. When telling fortunes, the Korava woman places the winnow, rice, betel leaves, areca nuts, and the wicker tray on the basket. She holds her client’s hand over the winnow and moves it around while chanting and naming various deities. Occasionally, she touches the hand of the person receiving the fortune with the stick. The Korava women are quite skilled at gathering information about a client’s situation before revealing her fortune.

Korava Woman Telling Fortune.

Korava Woman Telling Fortune.

Korava Woman Fortunetelling.

Brāhmans fix the auspicious hour for marriage, and Chettis are invited to act as priests at the purification ceremony for re-admission into caste of a man or woman who has cohabited with a Paraiyan or Muhammadan, or been beaten with a shoe, etc. For the purpose of re-admission, a panchāyat (council) assembles, at which the headman presides. Enquiries are made into the conduct of the accused, and a fine of two rupees levied. Of this sum the Chetti receives eight annas, with some betel and tobacco. The balance is spent in liquor for those who are assembled. After the Chetti has received his fee, he smears the foreheads of the guilty person and the company with sacred ashes. The impure person goes to a stream or well, and bathes. He then again comes before the council, and is purified by the Chetti again marking his forehead. The proceedings wind up with a feast. In former days, at a trial before a council, the legs of the complainant and accused were tied together. In 1907, a Koracha was excommunicated for having illicit intercourse with a widow. The ceremony of excommunication usually consists of shaving the head and moustache of the guilty person, and making him ride a donkey, wearing a necklace of bones. In the case under reference, a donkey could not be procured, so a temporary shed was made of sajja [466](Setaria italica) stalks, which were set on fire after the man had passed through it. He was to be re-admitted into the caste by standing a feast to all the members of five gangs of Korachas.

Brāhmans choose the lucky time for weddings, and Chettis are invited to serve as priests during the purification ceremony for someone who needs to be readmitted into the caste after living with a Paraiyan or Muhammadan, or after being punished with a shoe, etc. To facilitate this re-admission, a panchāyat (council) is convened, led by the headman. They investigate the conduct of the person involved and impose a fine of two rupees. Out of this amount, the Chetti receives eight annas, along with some betel and tobacco. The remaining money is used to buy drinks for those present. After the Chetti gets paid, he applies sacred ashes to the foreheads of the accused and everyone present. The impure individual then goes to a stream or well to bathe. After bathing, they return to the council and the Chetti purifies them again by marking their forehead. The process concludes with a feast. In the past, during a trial, the legs of the complainant and the accused were tied together. In 1907, a Koracha was excommunicated for having an affair with a widow. The excommunication ceremony typically involved shaving the head and mustache of the offender and making them ride a donkey while wearing a necklace made of bones. In this case, since a donkey was not available, a temporary shelter was constructed from sajja [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__](Setaria italica) stalks, which were set on fire after the man passed through it. He was to be readmitted into the caste by hosting a feast for all the members of five gangs of Korachas.

It is said211 that “a curious custom of the Kuravans prohibits them from committing crime on new-moon or full-moon days. Once started on an expedition, they are very determined and persistent. There is a case on record where one of a band of Kuravans out on an expedition was drowned in crossing the Cauvery. Nothing daunted by the loss or the omen, they attempted a burglary, and failed. They then tried another house, where they also failed; and it was not till they had met with these three mishaps that their determination weakened, and they went home.”

It’s said211 that “an interesting tradition of the Kuravans forbids them from committing crimes on new-moon or full-moon days. Once they embark on a mission, they are very determined and persistent. There’s a recorded incident where one member of a Kuravan group drowned while crossing the Cauvery. Undeterred by the loss or the bad omen, they tried to commit a burglary and failed. They then attempted another house, where they also failed; and it wasn't until they had faced these three setbacks that their determination weakened, and they decided to go home.”

The Koravas are extremely superstitious, and take careful notice of good or bad omens before they start on a criminal expedition. They hold a feast, at which the assistance of the goddess Kolāpuriamma or Perumāl is sought. A young goat, with coloured thread attached to its horns, and a garland of margosa leaves with a piece of turmeric round its neck, is taken to an out-of-the-way shrine. Here it is placed before the deity, and cocoanuts are broken. The god is asked whether the expedition will be successful. If the body of the animal quivers, it is regarded as an answer in the affirmative; if it does not, the expedition will be abandoned. If in addition to quivering, the animal urinates, no better sign could be hoped for. The Koravas make it a point of honour to pay for the goat used for this religious purpose. It was information of this ceremony having been performed which led to the [467]detection of a torchlight dacoity in the Cuddapah district in 1896. The expedition was in the first instance successful, for the Koravas broke into a Kōmati’s house in the middle of a village, and carried off a quantity of jewels. The Kōmati’s arm was broken, and he and other inmates of the house were badly burnt by lighted torches thrust against their faces and bodies. Among other methods of consulting the omens is to sacrifice a fowl at a shrine, and sit in front thereof listening for the direction whence the chirping of lizards issues. If the omens are auspicious, the members of the expedition start off, armed as a rule with lātis (sticks) and axes. If they attack a cart, they commence by throwing stones at it, to ascertain if the occupant has fire-arms with him. Houses are generally broken into by means of a hole made in the wall near the door-latch. In the Ceded Districts, where the houses are as a rule substantially built of rough stone, and have flat roofs of salt earth, an opening is frequently effected through the roof. The Koravas are often extremely cruel in the methods which they adopt to extort information from inhabitants of houses as to where their valuables are concealed. In common with other Hindus, they avoid the shadow of the thandra tree (Terminalia belerica), in which the spirit of Sanēswaradu is believed to reside. In this connection the following legend is recited.212 In the city of Bīmanapuram there ruled a king named Bīmarāju, who had a beautiful daughter named Damayanti, with whom the gods, including Nalamahārāju, fell in love. Damayanti had never seen Nalamahārāju, but loved him on account of the stories which reached her of the justice with which he governed his kingdom, and his chastity. [468]To avoid being charged with partiality in disposing of his daughter’s hand, Bīmarāju determined to invite all the gods to his house, and the one to whom Damayanti should throw a garland of flowers should claim her as his wife. The day fixed on arrived, and all the gods assembled, except Sanēswaradu, who appears to have been unavoidably detained. The gods were seated in a circle, and a fly guided Damayanti to Nalamahārāju, on whose neck she threw the garland. Nalamahārāju at once claimed her as his wife, and started off with her to his kingdom. On the way they met Sanēswaradu, who demanded an explanation of their being in each other’s company. He was told, and was very angry because the matter had been settled in his absence, and swore a mighty oath that they should be separated. To this end, he caused all sorts of difficulties to come in their way. Under his spell, Nalamahārāju took to gambling, and lost all his property. He was separated from Damayanti, and lived in poverty for years. The spell of Sanēswaradu could, however, only last for a certain number of years, and, when the time expired Nalamahārāju set out for Bīmanapuram, to find Damayanti who had returned to her father’s house. On the way, under a thandra tree, he met Sanēswaradu, who confessed that he was the cause of all the troubles that had befallen him, and begged that he would look leniently on his fault. Nalamahārāju would not forgive him, but, after cursing him, ordained that he should live for ever in the thandra tree, so that the area over which he could do wrong should be limited. It is for this reason that all wandering tribes avoid pitching a camp within the shadow of this tree. A tree (Terminalia Catappa) belonging to the same genus as the thandra is regarded as a lucky one to camp beneath, as it was [469]under one of these trees that Rāma made a bower when he lived with Sīta and Lakshmana after his banishment to the forest of Dandaka.

The Koravas are very superstitious and pay close attention to good or bad omens before embarking on a criminal mission. They hold a feast to seek the blessings of the goddess Kolāpuriamma or Perumāl. A young goat, with colored thread tied to its horns and a garland of margosa leaves and a piece of turmeric around its neck, is taken to a remote shrine. There, it’s placed before the deity, and coconuts are broken. They ask the god whether the mission will be successful. If the goat's body trembles, it’s seen as a positive sign; if it doesn’t quiver, the mission is called off. If the goat quivers and urinates, that’s an even better sign. The Koravas consider it a matter of honor to pay for the goat used in this ritual. News of this ceremony being held led to the detection of a torchlight robbery in the Cuddapah district in 1896. Initially, the mission was successful as the Koravas broke into a Kōmati's house in the middle of a village and stole a number of jewels. The Kōmati suffered a broken arm, and he and others in the house were severely burned by torches pressed against their faces and bodies. One of the other ways they consult omens is by sacrificing a fowl at a shrine and listening for the direction of the chirping of lizards. If the omens are favorable, the expedition members set out, usually armed with sticks and axes. When attacking a cart, they start by throwing stones at it to check if the person inside has firearms. Houses are often broken into by making a hole in the wall near the door latch. In the Ceded Districts, where houses are typically sturdily built from rough stone and have flat roofs made of salt earth, they often create an opening through the roof. The Koravas are sometimes very cruel in how they extract information from occupants about the whereabouts of their valuables. Like other Hindus, they avoid the shadow of the thandra tree (Terminalia belerica), where the spirit of Sanēswaradu is believed to reside. In this context, the following legend is told. In the city of Bīmanapuram, there was a king named Bīmarāju, who had a beautiful daughter named Damayanti, loved by the gods, including Nalamahārāju. Damayanti had never met Nalamahārāju, but loved him for the tales she heard of his just rule and chastity. To avoid favoritism in marrying off his daughter, Bīmarāju decided to invite all the gods to his palace, and the one to whom Damayanti threw a garland of flowers would claim her as his wife. The day arrived, and all the gods gathered, except Sanēswaradu, who was unfortunately delayed. The gods sat in a circle, and a fly led Damayanti to Nalamahārāju, to whom she threw the garland. Nalamahārāju immediately claimed her as his wife and set off with her to his kingdom. On their way, they encountered Sanēswaradu, who demanded an explanation for their companionship. They explained, and he was furious that the matter had been settled without him, vowing that they would be separated. He created various obstacles for them. Under his influence, Nalamahārāju began gambling and lost all his possessions. He was separated from Damayanti and lived in poverty for years. However, Sanēswaradu's spell could only last a limited number of years, and when that time was up, Nalamahārāju set out for Bīmanapuram to find Damayanti, who had returned to her father's house. On his journey, he met Sanēswaradu under a thandra tree, who admitted he caused all of Nalamahārāju’s troubles and begged for forgiveness. Nalamahārāju refused to forgive him but cursed him to live forever in the thandra tree, limiting the area where he could cause harm. This is why all wandering tribes avoid camping in the shadow of this tree. A tree (Terminalia Catappa) of the same family as the thandra is considered a lucky spot to camp under, as it was [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] under one of these trees that Rāma created a bower when he lived with Sīta and Lakshmana after being banished to the Dandaka forest.

In connection with omens and superstitions, Mr. Fawcett writes as follows. “Koravas, being highly superstitious, are constantly on the look-out for omens, especially before starting out on an excursion when the objective is dacoity or housebreaking. The household deity, represented by a brick picked up at random, is worshipped, and a sheep or fowl is sacrificed. Water is first poured over the animal, and, if it shakes its body, the omen is good, while, if it stands perfectly still, there is misfortune ahead. It is unfortunate, when starting, to see widows, pots of milk, dogs urinating, a man leading a bull, or a bull bellowing. On the other hand, it is downright lucky when a bull bellows at the scene of the criminal operation. To see a man goading a bull is a good omen when starting, and a bad one at the scene. Sprinkling urine over doors and walls of a house facilitates breaking into it. The failure of an expedition is generally attributed to the evil eye, or the evil tongue, whose bad effects are evinced in many ways. If the excursion has been for housebreaking, the housebreaking implement is often soldered at its sharp end with panchalokam (five metals), to counteract the effect of the evil eye. The evil tongue is a frequent cause of failure. It consists in talking evil of others, or harping on probable misfortunes. There are various ways of removing its unhappy effects. A mud figure of a man is made on the ground, and thorns are placed over the mouth. This is the man with the evil tongue. Those who have suffered walk round it, crying out and beating their mouths; the greater the noise, the better the effect. Cutting the neck of a fowl half through and allowing it to flutter about, or inserting [470]a red hot splinter in its anus to madden it with pain, are considered to be effective, while, if a cock should crow after its neck has been cut, calamities are averted. The fowl is a sort of adjunct to the Koravar’s life. In early childhood, the first experiments in his career consist in stealing fowls; in manhood he feasts on them when he is well off, and he uses them, as we have seen, with abominable cruelty for divination or averting misfortune. The number seven is considered ominous, and an expedition never consists of seven men. The word for the number seven in Telugu resembles the word for weeping, and is considered to be unlucky. A man who has returned from jail, or who has been newly married, is not as a rule taken on an expedition. In the case of the former, the rule may be set aside by bringing a lamb from a neighbouring flock. A man who forgets to bring his stick, or to equip or arm himself properly, is always left behind. As in the case of dacoities, seven is an unlucky number to start out for housebreaking, but, should it be unavoidable, a fiction is indulged in of making the housebreaking implement the eighth member of the gang. When there are dogs about a house, they are soon kept quiet with powdered gajjakai or ganja leaves mixed with cooked rice, which they eat greedily. Detached parties in the jungle or elsewhere are able to unite by making sounds like the howling of jackals or hooting of owls. The direction taken on a road, or in the forest, is indicated by throwing the leaves of the tangēdu (Cassia auriculata) along the road. At crossroads, the road taken is indicated by the thick end of a twig of the tangēdu placed under a stone. Rows of stones, one piled over the other, are also used to point out the route taken when crossing hills. The women resort to divination, but not accompanied by cruelty, [471]when their husbands are long enough absent to arouse apprehension of danger. A long piece is pulled out of a broom, and to one end of it are tied several small pieces dipped in oil. If the stick floats in water, all is well; but, should it sink, two of the women start out at once to find the men. They generally know as a matter of pre-arrangement whereabouts to find them, and proceed thither, pretending to sell karipak (curry leaves). The eighteenth day of the Tamil month Avani is the luckiest day of all for committing crimes. A successful criminal exploit on this day ensures good luck throughout the year. Sundays, which are auspicious for weddings, are inauspicious for crimes. Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays are unlucky until noon for starting out from home. So, too, is the day after new moon. Fridays are unsuitable for breaking into the houses of Brāhmans or Kōmatis, as they may be engaged in worshipping Ankalamma, to whom the day is sacred.”

In relation to omens and superstitions, Mr. Fawcett writes: “The Koravas, who are very superstitious, are always on the lookout for signs, especially before heading out on a mission involving theft or breaking and entering. They worship their household deity, represented by a randomly picked brick, and sacrifice a sheep or a fowl. Water is poured over the animal first, and if it shakes its body, it’s seen as a good sign; if it stands completely still, it means trouble is ahead. It’s considered bad luck to see widows, pots of milk, dogs urinating, a man leading a bull, or a bull bellowing before starting. Conversely, it’s very lucky if a bull bellows at the scene of the crime. Seeing a man goading a bull is a good omen before starting but a bad sign at the scene itself. Sprinkling urine on the doors and walls of a house helps in breaking in. When an expedition fails, it’s usually blamed on the evil eye or the evil tongue, with negative effects manifesting in many ways. If the mission is to break into a house, the breaking-in tool is often sealed at its sharp end with panchalokam (five metals) to counteract the evil eye. The evil tongue often causes failures, arising from speaking ill of others or fixating on potential misfortunes. There are various methods to ward off its negative effects. A mud figure of a man is made on the ground, and thorns are placed over its mouth to symbolize the person with the evil tongue. Those who have suffered walk around it, yelling and beating their mouths; the louder they are, the better the outcome. Cutting a fowl’s neck halfway and letting it flutter around, or inserting a red-hot splinter into its anus to provoke pain, are seen as effective measures. If a cock crows after its neck is cut, it’s believed that disasters are averted. The fowl is integral to the Koravar’s life. In childhood, their first acts of thievery involve stealing chickens; in adulthood, they feast on them when prosperous, and as we have seen, they cruelly use them for divination or to ward off misfortune. The number seven is seen as ominous, and an expedition is never made up of seven men. The word for seven in Telugu sounds like the word for weeping, which is considered unlucky. Typically, a man who has just gotten out of jail or who is newly married isn't taken on an expedition. For the former, this rule can be bent by bringing a lamb from a nearby flock. A man who forgets to bring his stick or to properly equip or arm himself is always left behind. Just like with robberies, seven is also an unlucky number for housebreaking; however, if it can't be avoided, they pretend the breaking-in tool is the eighth member of the group. When dogs are present near a target house, they're quickly quieted with powdered gajjakai or cannabis leaves mixed with cooked rice, which they consume eagerly. Separate groups in the jungle or elsewhere can signal each other by mimicking the sounds of jackals howling or owls hooting. The direction to take on roads or in the forest is shown by throwing the leaves of the tangēdu (Cassia auriculata) along the path. At crossroads, the chosen road is indicated by placing the thick end of a tangēdu twig under a stone. Stacking stones one over the other also marks the path taken when crossing hills. Women perform divination, but without cruelty, when their husbands are away long enough to raise concerns about their safety. They pull a long piece out of a broom and tie several small pieces dipped in oil to one end. If the stick floats in water, all is well; if it sinks, two of the women immediately set out to find the men. They generally know where to look ahead of time and go there pretending to sell karipak (curry leaves). The eighteenth day of the Tamil month Avani is considered the luckiest day for committing crimes. A successful crime on this day promises good luck for the entire year. Sundays, while good for weddings, are bad for committing crimes. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays are unlucky for starting out before noon. The day after the new moon is also inauspicious. Fridays are unsuitable for breaking into the homes of Brāhmans or Kōmatis, as they may be engaged in worshipping Ankalamma, for whom the day is sacred.”

Many Koravas examined by Mr. Mainwaring were injured in one way or another. One man had his left nostril split, and explained that it was the result of a bite by another Korava in the course of a drunken brawl at a toddy-shop. Another had lost some of his teeth in a similar quarrel, and a third was minus the lobe of his right ear.

Many Koravas looked at by Mr. Mainwaring were hurt in various ways. One man had his left nostril torn, explaining that it happened due to a bite from another Korava during a drunken fight at a toddy shop. Another had lost some teeth in a similar argument, and a third was missing the lobe of his right ear.

A characteristic of the Koravas, which is well marked, is their hairlessness. They have plenty of straight hair on the head, but their bodies are particularly smooth. Even the pubic hairs are scanty, and the abdominal hairs are abundant only in a few instances. The Korava is not, in appearance, the typical criminal of one’s imagination, of the Bill Sykes type. That even the innocent looking individuals are criminal by nature, the following figures establish. In 1902, there were [472]739 Koravas, or Korchas as they are called in the Anantapur district, on the police registers as members of wandering gangs or ordinary suspects. Of these, no less than 215, or 29 per cent., had at least one conviction recorded against them. In the Nellore district, in 1903, there were 54 adult males on the register, of whom no less than 24, or 44 per cent., had convictions against them. In the Salem district, in the same year, there were 118 adult male Koravas registered, against 38, or 32.2 per cent. of whom convictions stood. There are, of course, hundreds who escape active surveillance by assuming an ostensible means of livelihood, and allowances must be made for the possibility of numbers escaping conviction for offences they may have committed. The women are equally criminal with the men, but are less frequently caught. They have no hesitation in concealing small articles by passing them into the vagina. The best way of ascertaining whether this has been done is said to be to make them jump. In this way, at a certain feast, a gold jewel was recovered from a woman, and she was convicted.213 This expedient is, however, not always effectual. A case came under notice, in 1901, at the Kolar gold fields, in which a woman had a small packet of stolen gold amalgam passed to her during the search of the house by her husband, who was suspected. She begged permission to leave the house to urinate. The request was granted, and a constable who went with her on her return reported her conduct as suspicious. A female searcher was procured, and the parcel found jammed transversely in the vagina, and required manipulation to dislodge it. Small jewels, which the Koravas manage to steal, are at once [473]concealed in the mouth, and even swallowed. When swallowed, the jewel is next day recovered with the help of a purgative. In this way a half sovereign was recovered a few years ago.214 Male Koravas sometimes conceal stolen articles in the rectum. In the Tanjore district a Korava Kēpmari, who was suspected of having resorted to this dodge, was examined by a medical officer, and two thin gold chains, each about 14 inches long, were extracted. The females take an important part in resisting an attempt to arrest the males. I am informed that, “when a raid is made on an encampment, the males make off, while the females, stripping themselves, dance in a state of nudity, hoping thereby to attract the constables to them, while the males get clear away. Should, however, these manœuvres fail to attain their object, the females proceed to lacerate the pudenda, from which blood flows profusely. They then lie down as if dead. The unfortunate constables, though proof against amorous advances, must perforce assist them in their distress. If it comes to searching Korava huts, the females take a leading part in attacking the intruders, and will not hesitate to stone them, or break chatties (earthen pots) on their heads.”

A notable characteristic of the Koravas is their lack of body hair. They have plenty of straight hair on their heads, but their bodies are remarkably smooth. Even their pubic hair is sparse, and abdominal hair is only abundant in a few cases. The Korava doesn’t fit the typical image of a criminal, like Bill Sykes. To show that even those who look innocent can be criminal by nature, consider the following statistics. In 1902, there were [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]739 Koravas, or Korchas as they are called in the Anantapur district, listed by the police as members of wandering gangs or regular suspects. Of these, 215, or 29 percent, had at least one conviction against them. In the Nellore district, in 1903, there were 54 adult males on the list, with 24, or 44 percent, having convictions. In the Salem district that same year, there were 118 adult male Koravas registered, 38 of whom, or 32.2 percent, had convictions. Of course, there are many who evade active surveillance by pretending to have a legitimate source of income, and it should be acknowledged that some may escape conviction for crimes they committed. The women are just as criminal as the men, but they get caught less often. They have no qualms about hiding small items by inserting them into their vaginas. The most effective way to check if this has happened is said to be making them jump. At one feast, a gold piece was recovered from a woman this way, leading to her conviction.213 However, this method doesn’t always work. In 1901, at the Kolar gold fields, a woman had a small packet of stolen gold passed to her while her husband was being searched. She asked to leave the house to urinate, and after she did, a constable noticed her behavior seemed suspicious. A female officer was brought in to search her, and they found the parcel lodged in her vagina, which required some manipulation to remove. Small jewels that the Koravas steal are quickly hidden in the mouth and sometimes swallowed. When swallowed, the jewel can be recovered the next day with a purgative. A half sovereign was recovered this way a few years ago.214 Male Koravas sometimes hide stolen items in their rectums. In the Tanjore district, a Korava named Kēpmari, suspected of doing this, was examined by a medical officer, who extracted two thin gold chains, each about 14 inches long. Women play a crucial role in resisting attempts to arrest the men. I’ve been told that “when a raid occurs on their camp, the men flee while the women strip down and dance naked, hoping to distract the police while the men escape. If this tactic doesn’t work, the women then cut their own genitals, causing heavy bleeding, and lie down as though dead. The unfortunate constables, despite being immune to romantic advances, must help them in their time of need. If it comes to searching Korava huts, the women actively attack the intruders, not hesitating to throw stones or smash earthen pots on their heads.”

It is recorded, in the Cuddapah Manual, that “a Yerukala came to a village, and, under the pretence of begging, ascertained which women wore jewels, and whether the husbands of any such were employed at night in the fields. In the night he returned, and, going to the house he had previously marked, suddenly snatched up the sleeping woman by the massive kamma (gold ear-ring) she wore, sometimes with such violence as to lift up the woman, and always in such a way as to [474]wrench off the lobe of the ear. This trick he repeated in three different hamlets of the same village on one night, and in one house on two women. In one case, the woman had been lifted so high that, when the ear gave way, she fell to the ground, and severely injured her head.” A new form of house robbery is said to have been started by the Koravas in recent years. They mark down the residence of a woman, whose jewels are worth stealing, and lurk outside the house before dawn. Then, when the woman comes out, as is the custom, before the men are stirring, they snatch her ear-rings and other ornaments, and are gone before an alarm can be raised.215 Another favourite method of securing jewelry is for the Korava to beg for rice, from door to door, on a dark night, crying “Sandi bichcham, Amma, Sandi bichcham” (night alms, mother, night alms). Arrived at the house of his victim, he cries out, and the lady of the house brings out a handful of rice, and puts it in his pot. As she does so, he makes a grab at her tāli or other neck ornament, and makes off with the spoil.

It’s noted in the Cuddapah Manual that “a Yerukala came to a village and, pretending to beg, figured out which women had jewels and whether their husbands worked in the fields at night. Later that night, he returned to the house he had marked and suddenly yanked the sleeping woman by her large kamma (gold earring), sometimes with such force that he lifted her off the ground, always in a way that wrenched her earlobe. He did this trick in three different areas of the same village in one night, and targeted two women in one house. In one instance, the woman was lifted so high that when her ear gave way, she fell and seriously injured her head.” A new type of house theft is said to have been started by the Koravas in recent years. They note the home of a woman whose jewelry is worth stealing and wait outside before dawn. Then, when the woman comes out, as is common before the men are awake, they snatch her earrings and other ornaments and are gone before anyone can raise the alarm. Another common method for getting jewelry is for the Korava to go door to door begging for rice on a dark night, calling out “Sandi bichcham, Amma, Sandi bichcham” (night alms, mother, night alms). When he reaches the house of his target, he shouts, and the lady of the house brings out a handful of rice and puts it in his pot. As she does this, he grabs her tāli or other neck ornament and makes off with it.

“Stolen property”, Mr. Mullaly writes,216 “is disposed of, as soon as they can get a suitable remuneration. The general bargain is Re. I for a rupee’s weight of gold. They do not, however, as a rule, lose much over their transactions, and invariably convert their surplus into sovereigns. In searching a Koravar encampment on one occasion, the writer had the good fortune to discover a number of sovereigns which, for safe keeping, were stitched in the folds of their pack saddles. Undisposed of property, which had been buried, is brought to the encampment at nightfall, and taken back and re-buried before dawn. The ground round the pegs, to which [475]their asses are tethered, in heaps of ashes or filth, are favourite places for burying plunder.”

“Stolen property,” Mr. Mullaly writes, 216 “is sold off as soon as they can get a good price. The common deal is one rupee for a rupee's weight of gold. However, they usually don't lose much in their deals and always turn their extra money into sovereigns. Once, when searching a Koravar camp, I was lucky to find a bunch of sovereigns that had been sewn into the folds of their pack saddles for safekeeping. Any unsold items that have been buried are brought back to the camp at night and re-buried before dawn. The ground around the pegs where their donkeys are tied, covered in piles of ashes or waste, are popular spots for hiding stolen goods.”

The Koravas disguise themselves as Kēpmaris, Alagiris or pūjāris. The terms Kēpmari, Alagiri, Kathirivāndlu, etc., are applied to certain persons who adopt particular methods in committing crime, all of which are adopted by the Koravas. The Tamil equivalent of Kēpmari is Talapa Mathi, or one who changes his head-dress. Alagiris are thieves who worship at the temple of Kalla Alagar near Madura, and vow that a percentage of their ill-gotten gains will be given as an offering to his temple. Kathirivāndlu (scissors people) are those who operate with knives or scissors, snipping off chains, cutting the strings of purses, and ripping open bags or pockets.

The Koravas disguise themselves as Kēpmaris, Alagiris, or pūjāris. The terms Kēpmari, Alagiri, Kathirivāndlu, etc., are used to refer to individuals who use specific methods for committing crimes, all of which are employed by the Koravas. The Tamil equivalent of Kēpmari is Talapa Mathi, which means someone who changes their headwear. Alagiris are thieves who worship at the temple of Kalla Alagar near Madura and promise that a portion of their stolen goods will be offered at his temple. Kathirivāndlu (scissors people) are those who use knives or scissors to snip off chains, cut the strings of purses, and rip open bags or pockets.

The Koravas are not nice as regards the selection of some of their food. Cats, fowls, fish, pigs, the black-faced monkey known in Telugu as kondamuchu, jackals, field rats, deer, antelope, goats and sheep serve as articles of dietary. There is a Tamil proverb “Give an elephant to a pandit, and a cat to a Kuravan.” They will not eat cattle or buffaloes, and will not take food in company with Muhammadans, barbers, washermen, carpenters, goldsmiths, blacksmiths, Paraiyans or Chakkiliyans. The Bōyas seem to be the lowest class with whom they will eat. They drink heavily when funds are available, or at social gatherings, when free drinks are forthcoming. At council meetings liquor must be supplied by the disputants, and there is a proverb, “With dry mouths nothing can be uttered.”

The Koravas aren't very picky about their food choices. They eat cats, fowl, fish, pigs, the black-faced monkey known in Telugu as kondamuchu, jackals, field rats, deer, antelope, goats, and sheep. There's a Tamil saying: “Give an elephant to a pandit, and a cat to a Kuravan.” They won't eat cattle or buffaloes and won't share meals with Muhammadans, barbers, washermen, carpenters, goldsmiths, blacksmiths, Paraiyans, or Chakkiliyans. The Bōyas seem to be the lowest class they will eat with. They drink heavily when they have the funds or at social events where drinks are free. At council meetings, the people involved in the disputes must provide alcohol, and there's a saying, “With dry mouths nothing can be uttered.”

Most Koravas possess knives, and a kind of billhook, called koduvāl, which is a sort of compromise between a sword and a sickle. The back of the blade is heavy, and renders it capable of dealing a very severe [476]blow. With this implement animals are slaughtered, murders committed, and bamboos split.

Most Koravas carry knives and a type of billhook called koduvāl, which is a mix between a sword and a sickle. The back of the blade is heavy, allowing it to deliver a strong [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] blow. This tool is used for slaughtering animals, committing murders, and splitting bamboos.

For the purpose of committing burglaries, the Koravas are said by Mr. Mullaly to use an iron instrument pointed at either end, called gādi kōlu or sillu kōlu, which is offered, before a gang sets out, to Perumāl, whose aid in the success of the undertaking is invoked.

For the purpose of committing burglaries, Mr. Mullaly says the Koravas use an iron tool pointed at both ends, called gādi kōlu or sillu kōlu, which is presented to Perumāl before the gang sets out, seeking his assistance for the success of their mission.

The Koravas as a class are industrious, and generally doing something. One may see the men on the march twisting threads into stout cord. Others will be making fine nets for fishing, or coarse ones, in which to suspend household pots or utensils; straw pads, on which the round-bottomed chatties invariably stand; or a design with red thread and cowry shells, wherewith to decorate the head of a bull or a money-bag. It is when hawking these articles from door to door that the Koravas are said to gain information as to property which may be worth stealing. The following is a free translation of a song representing Koracha characteristics, in a play by Mr. D. Krishnamacharlu, a well-known amateur dramatist of Bellary:—

The Koravas as a group are hardworking and always engaged in some activity. You can see the men walking along twisting threads into strong cord. Others are making fine fishing nets or thicker ones to hang household pots or tools; straw mats that hold the round-bottomed chatties; or decorative pieces with red thread and cowry shells to adorn a bull's head or a money bag. It’s while they sell these items door to door that the Koravas are said to gather intel about properties that might be worth robbing. The following is a loose translation of a song that highlights Koracha traits, from a play by Mr. D. Krishnamacharlu, a well-known amateur playwright from Bellary:—

Hurrah! Our Koracha caste is a very fine caste,

Hurrah! Our Koracha community is a really great community,

The best of castes, Hurrah!

The best of classes, Hurrah!

When a temple feast is proceeding,

When a temple feast is happening,

We beg, and commit thefts surprising.

We plead and commit unexpected thefts.

Don’t we? Care we for aught?

Don’t we? Do we care about anything?

Don’t we slip off uncaught?

Don’t we slip away unnoticed?

(Chorus.)

(Chorus.)

Cutting trinkets off,

Removing trinkets,

From the necks of babes in their mothers’ arms.

From the necks of babies in their mothers’ arms.

Who could suspect us? Cannot we hoodwink them all?

Who would suspect us? Can’t we trick them all?

Cannot we get away?

Can't we get away?

(Chorus.)

(Chorus.)

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

When those eternal watchmen catch us,

When those eternal watchmen see us,

After endless search take life out of us.

After an endless search, life drains out of us.

Do we blurt out? Do we confess?

Do we just say it? Do we admit it?

Don’t we enquire what is our offence?

Don’t we ask what our offense is?

(Chorus.)

(Chorus.)

In the south, the Koravas are frequently employed by villagers as watchmen (kāvalgars) on the principle of setting a thief to keep other thieves off. They are paid in grain. The villagers are more than half afraid of them, and, if the remuneration stipulated upon is not promptly paid to the watchmen, a house-breaking will certainly occur in the village. If a crime happens to take place in a village where a Korava has been appointed watchman, he frequently manages to get back the stolen property if the theft is the work of another Korava, but only on condition that the police are not called in to investigate the offence.

In the south, the Koravas are often hired by villagers as watchmen (kāvalgars) based on the idea of putting a thief in charge of keeping other thieves away. They get paid in grain. The villagers are more than a little afraid of them, and if the agreed payment isn’t made to the watchmen on time, a burglary is bound to happen in the village. If a crime occurs in a village with a Korava as the watchman, he usually manages to recover the stolen goods if another Korava is responsible for the theft, but only if the police aren't called in to investigate the matter.

Yerukala Settlement.

Yerukala Settlement.

Yerukala Community.

The dwellings in which the Koravas live are made with low mud walls and thatched. The wanderers erect a temporary hut called gudisē, with mats or cocoanut or palmyra palm leaves, not more than 4 feet high. It is constructed of crossed bamboos tied together, and connected by another bamboo, which serves as a ridge, over which they fasten the mats.

The homes where the Koravas live have low mud walls and thatched roofs. The wanderers set up temporary huts called gudisē, made from mats or coconut or palmyra palm leaves, standing no more than 4 feet tall. They are built with crossed bamboo tied together, connected by another bamboo that acts as a ridge, over which they secure the mats.

Marriages are arranged by the elders. The father of a youth who is of a marriageable age calls together some of the elders of his division, and proceeds in quest of a suitable bride. If the family visited consents to the match, the headman is sent for, and a move is made to the toddy-shop. Here the father of the future bridegroom fills a small earthen vessel, called in Telugu muntha, and offers it to the father of the bride-elect, asking him, Do you know why I give you this toddy? The recipient replies, It is because I have given you [478]my daughter, and I drink to her health. The vessel is refilled and offered to the headman, who takes it, and enquires of the father of the girl why he is to drink. The reply is, Because I have given my daughter to ——’s son; drink to her health. The questions and answers are repeated while every one present, according to rank, has a drink. Those who have so drunk at this betrothal ceremony are looked upon as witnesses to the contract. After the drinking ceremony, an adjournment is made to the girl’s house, where a feast is partaken of. At the conclusion thereof, the future bridegroom’s people enquire if the girl has a maternal uncle, to whom the purchase money should be paid. The purchase money is 101 madas (a mada = two rupees), and is always the same for both well-to-do and poor. But, as a matter of fact, the whole of it is never paid. A few instalments are sometimes handed over, but generally the money is the cause of endless quarrels. When, however, the families, are on good terms, and the husband enjoys the hospitality of his wife’s maternal uncle, or vice versâ, it is a common thing for one to say to the other after a drink, See, brother-in-law, I have paid you two madas to-day, so deduct this from the vōli (purchase money). After the marriage has been arranged, and the maternal uncle has paid four annas as an earnest of the transaction, the party disperses until such time as the principals are in a position to perform the wedding. They might be infants, or the girl immature, or the intended husband be away. After the betrothal ceremony, the parents of the girl should on no account break off the match. If this were done, the party of the husband-elect would summon those who were present at the drinking ceremony to a meeting, and he who partook of the second drink (the headman) [479]would demand from the father of the girl an explanation of the breach of contract. No explanation is likely to be satisfactory, and the father is fined three hundred varāhas.217 This sum, like the purchase money, is seldom paid, but the award of it places the party from whom it is due in a somewhat inferior position to the party to whom it is payable. They occupy thenceforth the position of creditor to debtor. On the occasion of quarrels, no delicate sense of refinement restrains the former from alluding to the debt, and the position would be retained through several generations. There is a Tamil proverb that the quarrels of a Korava and an Idaiyan are not easily settled. If the contracting parties are ready to fulfil their engagement, the maternal uncle of the girl is paid five varāhas as the first instalment of the purchase money, and a Brāhman purōhit is asked to fix an auspicious time for the marriage ceremony. At the appointed time, the wedding party assembles at the home of the bride, and the first day is spent in eating and drinking, the bride and bridegroom being arrayed in new clothes purchased at the expense of the bride’s father. On the following day, they again feast. The contracting couple are seated on a kambli (blanket), on which some grains of rice have been previously sprinkled. The guests form a circle round them, and, at the auspicious moment, the bridegroom ties a string of black beads round the bride’s neck. When the string has been tied, the married women present, with hands crossed, throw rice over the heads of the pair. This rice has been previously prepared, and consists of five seers of rice with five pieces of turmeric, dried cocoanut, dried date fruit and jaggery (crude sugar), and five silver or copper [480]coins. While the rice-throwing is proceeding, a monotonous song is crooned, of which the following is a free translation:—

Marriages are arranged by the elders. The father of a young man who is of marriageable age gathers some elders from his community and seeks a suitable bride. If the family they visit agrees to the match, the community leader is summoned, and they all head to the local bar. There, the father of the future groom fills a small clay pot, known in Telugu as "muntha," and offers it to the father of the prospective bride, asking, "Do you know why I’m giving you this drink?" The recipient replies, "It’s because I’m giving you my daughter, and I drink to her health." The pot is refilled and presented to the community leader, who asks the girl's father why he’s drinking. The reply is, "Because I’ve given my daughter to ----’s son; drink to her health." This exchange continues while everyone present drinks according to their rank. Those who drink during this engagement ceremony are considered witnesses to the contract. After the drinking, everyone moves to the girl’s house for a feast. At the end of the meal, the groom's family asks if the girl has a maternal uncle, to whom the bride price should be paid. The bride price is 101 madas (where one mada equals two rupees), and it’s the same regardless of whether the families are well-off or poor. However, the full amount is rarely paid. Sometimes a few installments are given, but usually, the money leads to endless arguments. When the families are on good terms, and the husband enjoys the hospitality of his wife’s maternal uncle, or vice versa, it’s common for one to say to the other after a drink, "Look, brother-in-law, I paid you two madas today, so take that off the bride price." Once the marriage is arranged and the maternal uncle has paid four annas as a sign of good faith, everyone disperses until the couple is ready to have the wedding. They could be very young, the girl might not be mature, or the groom might be away. After the engagement, the girl’s parents must not break off the match. If they do, the groom’s side would call a meeting with those present at the drinking ceremony, and the person who took the second drink (the community leader) would demand an explanation from the girl’s father for the breach of contract. No explanation is likely to suffice, and the father is fined three hundred varāhas. This amount, like the bride price, is seldom paid in full, but the ruling puts the owing party in a somewhat subordinate position to the receiving party. From then on, they are seen as creditor and debtor. During disputes, there is no hesitation from the former to mention the debt, which could be recognized for several generations. There's a Tamil proverb that says the disputes between a Korava and an Idaiyan are not easily resolved. If both parties are ready to fulfill their engagement, the girl’s maternal uncle is given five varāhas as the first payment of the bride price, and a Brahmin priest is asked to set a favorable date for the wedding. On the wedding day, the bride’s family hosts the gathering, and the first day is spent feasting, with both the bride and groom dressed in new clothes provided by the bride’s father. The next day, they feast again. The couple sits on a kambli (blanket), on which some grains of rice have been sprinkled. The guests form a circle around them, and at the right moment, the groom ties a black bead necklace around the bride’s neck. Once the necklace is tied, the married women present throw rice over the couple. This rice has been prepared in advance and consists of five seers of rice along with five pieces of turmeric, dried coconut, dried dates, jaggery (raw sugar), and five silver or copper coins. While the rice-throwing occurs, a monotonous song is sung, of which the following is a free translation:—

Procure five white bulls.

Get five white bulls.

Get five white goats.

Get five white goats.

Obtain a seer218 of silver.

Get a silver __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Get a seer of gold.

Get a gold expert.

Always love your father

Always love your dad

And live happy for ever.

And live happily ever after.

Look after your mother always,

Always take care of your mom.

Your father and mother-in-law.

Your dad and mother-in-law.

Do not heed what folk say.

Do not pay attention to what people say.

Look after your relations,

Take care of your relationships.

And the God above will keep you happy.

And the God above will keep you happy.

Five sons and four daughters

Five sons and four daughters

Shall compose your family.

Will compose your family.

A predominance of sons is always considered desirable, and, with five sons and four daughters, the mystic number nine is reached.

A majority of sons is always seen as favorable, and with five sons and four daughters, the magical number nine is achieved.

No widows, women who have remarried, or girls dedicated as prostitutes, are allowed to join the wedding circle, as they would be of evil omen to the bride. Widows and remarried women must have lost a husband, and the prostitute never knows the God to whose service she is dedicated. On the third day, the rice-throwing ceremony is repeated, but on this occasion the bride and bridegroom pour some of the rice over each other’s heads before the women officiate. This ends the marriage ceremony, but, as among some other classes, consummation is prohibited for at least three months, as a very strong superstition exists that three heads should not enter a door within one year. The bride and bridegroom are the first two heads to enter the new home, [481]and the birth of a child within the year would constitute the third. This undesirable event is rendered less likely by a postponement of consummation. After the prescribed time has lapsed, the bride, with feigned reluctance, is escorted by her female relations to her husband’s hut. On the way obscene pleasantries, which evoke much merriment, are indulged in. The bride’s pretended reluctance necessitates a certain amount of compulsion, and she is given an occasional shove. Finally, she is thrust into the door of the hut, and the attendant women take their departure.

No widows, women who have remarried, or girls dedicated as prostitutes are allowed to join the wedding circle, as they are considered bad luck for the bride. Widows and remarried women must have lost a husband, and the prostitute never knows the God she serves. On the third day, the rice-throwing ceremony is repeated, but this time the bride and groom pour some of the rice over each other’s heads before the women officiate. This concludes the marriage ceremony, but, like in some other communities, consummation is prohibited for at least three months due to a strong superstition that three heads should not enter a door within one year. The bride and groom are the first two heads to enter the new home, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] and the birth of a child within the year would be the third. This undesirable event is considered less likely by delaying consummation. After the waiting period has passed, the bride, pretending to be reluctant, is escorted by her female relatives to her husband’s hut. On the way, they engage in crude jokes that cause a lot of laughter. The bride’s feigned reluctance requires some pushing, and she gets the occasional shove. Eventually, she is pushed through the door of the hut, and the women attending her leave.

The following details in another form of the marriage rites may be noted. The bridegroom proceeds on a Saturday to the settlement of the bride, where a hut has been set up for him close to that of the bride. Both the huts should face the east. On the following day, the headman, or an elder, brings a tray containing betel, flowers and kankanams (wrist-threads). He ties the threads round the wrists of the bride and bridegroom, and also round a pestle and mortar and a crowbar. A distribution of rice to all present, including infants, follows, and pork and mutton are also distributed. Towards evening, married women go, with music produced by beating on a brass tray, to a well or tank, with three pots beneath a canopy (ulladam). The pots are filled with water, and placed near the marriage milk-post. The bride takes her seat on a plank, and the bridegroom is carried on the shoulders of his brother-in-law, and conducted to another plank. Three married women, and some old men, then pour rice over the heads of the pair, while the following formula is repeated: “Try to secure four pairs of donkeys, a few pigs and cattle; live well and amicably; feed your guests well; grow wise and live.” The couple are then taken to the bride’s hut, the [482]entrance to which is guarded by several married women, who will not allow them to enter till the bridegroom has given out the name of the bride. Within the hut, the pair exchange food three times, and what remains after they have eaten is finished off by some married men and women. That night the pair sleep in the bride’s hut, together with the best man and bridesmaid. On the following day, a feast is held, at which every house must be represented by at least one married woman. Towards evening, the bridegroom takes the bride to his hut, and, just before they start, her mother ties up some rice in her cloth. At the entrance to the hut, a basket, called Kolāpuriamma’s basket, is placed. Depositing a winnowing tray thereon, the bride pours the rice which has been given to her on it. The rice is then transferred by the bridegroom to the mortar, and he and the bride pound it with the pestle and crowbar. The tāli is then tied by the bridegroom round the bride’s neck.

The following details in another form of the marriage rites may be noted. The groom goes on a Saturday to the bride's settlement, where a hut has been set up for him next to the bride’s. Both huts should face east. The next day, the headman or an elder brings a tray with betel, flowers, and wrist threads (kankanams). He ties the threads around the wrists of both the bride and groom, and also around a pestle and mortar and a crowbar. After that, rice is distributed to everyone present, including infants, and pork and mutton are also shared. In the evening, married women, accompanied by music from a brass tray, go to a well or tank with three pots under a canopy (ulladam). The pots are filled with water and placed near the marriage milk-post. The bride sits on a plank, while the groom is carried on his brother-in-law's shoulders and taken to another plank. Three married women and some older men then pour rice over their heads, repeating the following saying: “Try to secure four pairs of donkeys, a few pigs and cattle; live well and happily; feed your guests well; grow wise and live.” The couple is then taken to the bride's hut, the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]entrance of which is guarded by several married women who won’t let them in until the groom mentions the bride's name. Inside the hut, they exchange food three times, and any leftovers are consumed by some married men and women. That night, they sleep in the bride’s hut, along with the best man and bridesmaid. The next day, a feast is held, and every household must have at least one married woman present. In the evening, the groom takes the bride to his hut, and just before they leave, her mother wraps some rice in her cloth. At the entrance to the hut, a basket known as Kolāpuriamma’s basket is placed. The bride then puts a winnowing tray on it and pours the rice given to her onto the tray. The groom then transfers the rice to the mortar, and he and the bride pound it together with the pestle and crowbar. Finally, the groom ties the tāli around the bride’s neck.

In connection with marriage, Mr. Fawcett writes as follows. “A girl’s mother’s brother’s son has the right to have her to wife, and, if his right is abrogated by giving her to another, he (or his father?) receives a penalty from the man to whom she is given. The girl’s maternal uncle disposes of the girl. In the Coimbatore district, however, it is the father who is said to do so; indeed it is said that the father can even take a girl away from her husband, and give her to another for a higher bride-price. Prior to marriage proper, there is the betrothal, accompanied by presentation of betel leaves and draughts of toddy, when the maternal uncle or father repeats a regular formula which is answered word for word by the girl’s party, in which he agrees to hand over the girl for such a price, at the same time [483]requiring that she shall receive no bodily injury or have her hair cut, and, if she is returned damaged physically, payment shall be made according to a fixed rate. It should be said that the betrothal sometimes takes place at a tavern, the favourite haunt of the Koravas, where the bridegroom’s party offers a pail of toddy to the father of the girl and his party. The emptying of this pail seals the marriage contract, and involves the father of the girl into payment of the bride-price as a fine, together with a fine of Rs. 2 for every male child, and Rs. 4 for every female child that may be born. This penalty, which is known as ranku, is not, as a rule, pressed at once, but only after some children have been born. The day of marriage, generally a Sunday, is fixed by a Brāhman, who receives betel nuts, cocoanuts, one rupee, or even less. He selects an auspicious day and hour for the event. The hour selected is rather early in the evening, so that the marriage may be consummated the same night. A few days before the appointed day, two unmarried lads cut a branch of the nāval tree (Eugenia Jambolana), and throw it into a tank (pond) or river, where it is left until the wedding day, when the same two lads bring it back, and plant it in the ground near the dwelling of the bride, and on either side of it is placed a pot of water (brought from the tank or river where the branch had been left to soak) carried thither by two married women under a canopy. The mouth of each pot is closed by placing on top an earthen vessel on which is a lamp. The bride and bridegroom sit on donkey saddles spread on the ground, and undergo the nalugu ceremony, in which their hands and feet are rubbed nine times with saffron (turmeric) coloured red with chunam (lime). The elders bless the couple, throwing rice over their heads with crossed hands, and [484]all the while the women chant monotonously a song such as this:—

In relation to marriage, Mr. Fawcett writes the following: "A girl’s mother’s brother’s son has the right to marry her, and if his right is denied by giving her to someone else, he (or his father?) receives compensation from the man she marries. The girl’s maternal uncle decides her fate. In the Coimbatore district, however, it's said that the father takes on this role; indeed, it is said that the father can even take a girl from her husband and give her to another man for a higher bride-price. Before the actual marriage, there is a betrothal ceremony where betel leaves and drinks of toddy are presented, during which the maternal uncle or father recites a set formula that is echoed word for word by the girl’s family, agreeing to hand over the girl for a certain price while also requiring that she is not harmed or have her hair cut, and if she is returned injured, compensation will be paid according to a predetermined rate. It's worth noting that the betrothal sometimes occurs at a tavern, a popular spot for the Koravas, where the groom’s party offers a bucket of toddy to the girl's father and their group. Drinking from this bucket seals the marriage contract, obligating the girl's father to pay the bride-price as a fine, plus an additional fine of Rs. 2 for every male child and Rs. 4 for every female child born to them. This penalty, known as ranku, is usually not enforced immediately but rather after some children have been born. The wedding day, typically a Sunday, is set by a Brāhman, who receives betel nuts, coconuts, one rupee, or sometimes even less. He chooses an auspicious day and hour for the ceremony. The hour is usually early in the evening, allowing the marriage to be completed that same night. A few days before the wedding, two unmarried boys cut a branch from the nāval tree (Eugenia Jambolana) and throw it into a tank (pond) or river, where it remains until the wedding day. On that day, the same boys retrieve it and plant it in the ground near the bride’s home, with a pot of water on each side, brought from the tank or river by two married women under a canopy. The tops of the pots are covered with an earthen vessel that holds a lamp. The bride and groom sit on donkey saddles laid on the ground and undergo the nalugu ceremony, where their hands and feet are rubbed nine times with saffron (turmeric) mixed with chunam (lime). The elders bless the couple by tossing rice over their heads with crossed hands, while the women chant a song in a monotonous tone:—

Galianame Baipokame Sobaname,

Galianame Baipokame Sobaname,

Oh, Marriage giver of happiness and prosperity!

Oh, Marriage, the source of happiness and success!

The best oil of Madanapalle is this nalugu;

The best oil from Madanapalle is this nalugu;

The best soap seed of Silakat is for this nalugu;

The best soap seed from Silakat is for this nalugu;

Paint yourselves, Oh sisters, with the best of colours;

Paint yourselves, oh sisters, with the best colors;

Stain your cloth, Oh brother, with the best of dyes;

Stain your cloth, oh brother, with the best dyes;

Bring, Oh brother, the greenest of snakes;

Bring, oh brother, the greenest snake;

Adorn with it our Basavayya’s neck;

Put it around Basavayya's neck;

Bring, Oh brother, the flowers without leaves;

Bring, oh brother, the flowers without leaves;

Adorn with them the hair of the bride.

Adorn the bride's hair with them.

Then the bridegroom ties the bride’s tāli, a string coloured yellow with saffron (turmeric), or a string of small black beads. Every married woman must wear a necklet of black beads, and glass bangles on her wrists; when she becomes a widow, she must remove them. A feature of the ceremony not to be overlooked is the wedding meal (pendlikudu). After undergoing the nalugu, the bridegroom marks with a crowbar the spot where this meal, consisting of rice, milk, green gram, and jaggery (sugar), is to be cooked in a pot called bhūpalakunda. A trench is dug at the spot, and over it the cooking is done. When the food is ready, the bride and bridegroom take of it each three handfuls, and then the boys and girls snatch the pot away from them. After this, the couple proceed to the bridegroom’s hut, where they find a light burning. The elders sprinkle them with water coloured yellow with saffron (turmeric) as they enter.”

Then the groom ties the bride's tāli, a string colored yellow with saffron (turmeric) or a string of small black beads. Every married woman has to wear a necklace of black beads and glass bangles on her wrists; when she becomes a widow, she has to take them off. An important part of the ceremony is the wedding meal (pendlikudu). After going through the nalugu, the groom marks the spot with a crowbar where this meal, which includes rice, milk, green gram, and jaggery (sugar), will be cooked in a pot called bhūpalakunda. A trench is dug at that spot, and the cooking is done over it. When the food is ready, the bride and groom each take three handfuls of it, and then the boys and girls grab the pot away from them. After that, the couple goes to the groom's hut, where they find a light burning. The elders sprinkle them with water colored yellow with saffron (turmeric) as they enter.

For the following note on marriage among the Yerukalas of the Vizagapatam district, I am indebted to Mr. Hayavadana Rao. A man may marry the daughter of his paternal aunt or maternal uncle. The father of the would-be husband of a girl goes with ten rupees, [485]called sullaponnu, to her home, and pays the money to one of several elders who are brought together. Towards evening, the ground in front of the girl’s hut is swept, and a wooden plank and stone are set side by side. The bridegroom sits on the former, and the bride on the latter. Two pots of water are placed before them, and connected together by a thread tied round their necks. The pots are lifted up, and the water is poured over them. Contrary to the custom prevailing among many castes, new cloths are not given to them after this bath. Resuming their seats, the couple sprinkle each other with rice. An intelligent member of the caste then personates a Brāhman priest, mutters sundry mantrams (prayers), and shows a string (karugu) with a piece of turmeric tied to it to those assembled. It is touched by them in token of a blessing, and tied by the bridegroom on the neck of the bride. A feast, with a liberal supply of liquor, is held, the expenses of which are met from the ten rupees already referred to. The younger brother may marry the widow of an elder brother, and vice versâ. A widow is married in front of her mother’s hut. The marriage string is tied round her neck, but without the ceremonial observed at the marriage of a maid. If a husband wishes to secure a divorce, he asks his wife to break a twig in two before a caste council. If a woman wishes for a divorce, she elopes with a man, who pays a small fine, called ponnu, to the husband, and asks him to break a twig.

For the following note on marriage among the Yerukalas of the Vizagapatam district, I am grateful to Mr. Hayavadana Rao. A man may marry the daughter of his paternal aunt or maternal uncle. The father of the future husband of a girl brings ten rupees, called sullaponnu, to her home and gives the money to one of several elders gathered there. In the evening, the area in front of the girl’s hut is cleaned, and a wooden plank and a stone are placed side by side. The bridegroom sits on the plank, and the bride sits on the stone. Two pots of water are placed in front of them and linked together by a thread tied around their necks. The pots are lifted, and water is poured over them. Unlike many other castes, they do not receive new cloths after this bath. Once they resume their seats, the couple sprinkles each other with rice. A knowledgeable member of the caste acts as a Brāhman priest, recites various mantras (prayers), and shows a string (karugu) with a piece of turmeric tied to it to those present. They touch it as a blessing, and the bridegroom ties it around the bride's neck. A feast with plenty of liquor is held, and the costs are covered by the ten rupees mentioned earlier. The younger brother can marry the widow of an elder brother, and vice versa. A widow is married in front of her mother’s hut. The marriage string is tied around her neck, but without the ceremony that happens for a maiden's marriage. If a husband wants a divorce, he asks his wife to break a twig in two before a caste council. If a woman wants a divorce, she elopes with a man who pays a small fine, called ponnu, to the husband and asks him to break a twig.

The following story is current among the Koramas, to account for the tāli or bottu being replaced by a string of black beads. Once upon a time, a bridegroom forgot to bring the tāli, and he was told off to procure the necessary piece of gold from a goldsmith. The parties waited and waited, but the young man did not return. [486]Since then, the string of beads has been used as a marriage badge. According to another story, the tāli was prepared, and kept on the bank of a river, but disappeared when it was going to be picked up. A man was sent to procure another, but did not come back.

The following story is well-known among the Koramas, explaining how the tāli or bottu was replaced by a string of black beads. Once, a groom forgot to bring the tāli, and he was told to go get the necessary piece of gold from a goldsmith. The guests waited and waited, but the young man never returned. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Since then, a string of beads has been used as a marriage symbol. In another version of the story, the tāli was prepared and placed on the bank of a river, but it vanished just as it was about to be picked up. Someone was sent to get another one, but he didn’t come back either.

I am informed that the Yerukalas of the Kistna district are divided into two classes—sheep and goats practically. Of these, the latter are the bastard offspring of the former. Illegitimate must, in the first instance, marry illegitimate. The offspring thereof is ipso facto whitewashed, and becomes legitimate, and must marry a legitimate.

I’ve been told that the Yerukalas from the Kistna district are split into two groups—sheep and goats, basically. The goats are essentially mixed-breed offspring of the sheep. At first, illegitimate individuals must marry other illegitimates. Their children are automatically considered legitimate and must marry someone legitimate.

A custom is stated by Dr. Shortt219 to prevail among the Yerukalas, by which the first two daughters of a family may be claimed by the maternal uncle as wives for his sons. “The value of a wife is fixed at twenty pagodas. The maternal uncle’s right to the first two daughters is valued at eight out of twenty pagodas, and is carried out thus. If he urges his preferential claim, and marries his own sons to his nieces, he pays for each only twelve pagodas; and similarly if he, from not having sons, or any other cause, foregoes his claim, he receives eight pagodas of the twenty paid to the girl’s parents by anybody else who may marry them.” The price of a wife apparently differs in different localities. For example, it is noted, in the Census report, 1901, that, among the Kongu sub-division of the Koravas, a man can marry his sister’s daughter, and, when he gives his sister in marriage, he expects her to produce a bride for him. His sister’s husband accordingly pays Rs. 7–8–0 out of the Rs. 60 of which the bride price consists, at the wedding itself, and Rs. 2–8–0 more each year [487]until the woman bears a daughter. Some Koravas seem to be even more previous than fathers who enter their infant sons for a popular house at a public school. For their children are said to be espoused even before they are born. Two men, who wish their children to marry, say to one another: “If your wife should have a girl and mine a boy (or vice versâ), they must marry.” And, to bind themselves to this, they exchange tobacco, and the potential bridegroom’s father stands a drink to the future bride’s relations. But if, after the children are grown up, a Brāhman should pronounce the omens unpropitious, the marriage does not take place, and the bride’s father pays back the cost of the liquor consumed at the betrothal. If the marriage is arranged, a pot of water is placed before the couple, and a grass (Cynodon Dactylon) put into the water. This is equal to a binding oath between them.220 Of this grass it is said in the Atharwana Vēda: “May this grass, which rose from the water of life, which has a hundred roots and a hundred stems, efface a hundred of my sins, and prolong my existence on earth for a hundred years.” It is noted by the Rev. J. Cain221 that “at the birth of a daughter, the father of an unmarried little boy often brings a rupee, and ties it in the cloth of the father of the newly born girl. When the girl is grown up, he can claim her for his son. For twenty-five rupees he can claim her much earlier.”

A custom is mentioned by Dr. Shortt219 that is practiced among the Yerukalas, where the maternal uncle can claim the first two daughters of a family as wives for his sons. “The price for a wife is set at twenty pagodas. The maternal uncle’s right to the first two daughters is valued at eight out of the twenty pagodas and works like this: If he exercises his claim and marries his sons to his nieces, he only pays twelve pagodas for each. Similarly, if he doesn’t have sons or chooses to give up his claim for any reason, he gets back eight out of the twenty pagodas paid by anyone else who marries them.” The cost of a wife seems to vary by location. For example, it is noted in the Census report, 1901, that in the Kongu sub-division of the Koravas, a man can marry his sister’s daughter, and when he marries off his sister, he expects her to provide a bride for him. His sister’s husband then pays Rs. 7–8–0 out of a total bride price of Rs. 60 at the wedding and Rs. 2–8–0 each year [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] until the woman has a daughter. Some Koravas seem even more eager than fathers who enroll their infant sons in a popular school, as they reportedly arrange marriages for their children even before they are born. Two men who want their children to marry agree: “If your wife has a girl and mine has a boy (or vice versa), they must marry.” To formalize this, they exchange tobacco, and the potential groom’s father treats the future bride’s relatives to drinks. However, if a Brahmin declares that the omens are unfavorable after the children grow up, the marriage doesn’t happen, and the bride’s father reimburses the cost of the drinks consumed during the engagement. When the marriage is set, a pot of water is placed in front of the couple, and a grass (Cynodon Dactylon) is put into the water. This serves as a binding oath between them.220 It’s said in the Atharwana Vēda about this grass: “May this grass, which arose from the water of life, which has a hundred roots and a hundred stems, erase a hundred of my sins and extend my life on earth for a hundred years.” The Rev. J. Cain221 notes that “at the birth of a daughter, the father of an unmarried little boy often brings a rupee and ties it in the cloth of the newly born girl’s father. When the girl grows up, he can claim her for his son. For twenty-five rupees, he can claim her much sooner.”

In North Arcot, the Koravas are said222 to “mortgage their unmarried daughters, who become the absolute property of the mortgagee till the debt is discharged. The same practice exists in Chingleput and Tanjore. In Madras, the Koravars sell their wives outright when [488]they want money, for a sum equal to fifty rupees. In Nellore and other districts, they all purchase their wives, the price varying from thirty to seventy rupees, but money rarely passes on such occasions, the consideration being paid in asses or cattle.” In a recent case in the Madras High Court, a Korava stated that he had sold one of his wives for twenty-one rupees.223 It is stated by Dr. Pope that the Koravas do not “scruple to pawn their wives for debt. If the wife who is in pledge dies a natural death, the debt is discharged. If she should die from hard usage, the creditor must not only cancel the debt, but must defray the expenses of a second marriage for his debtor. If the woman lives till the debt is discharged, and if she has children by the creditor, the boys remain with him, the girls go back with her to her husband.” The conditions of the country suggest a reason for the pawning of wives. A wife would be pawned in times of stress, and redeemed after seasons of plenty. The man who can afford to accept her in pledge in a time of famine would, in periods of plenty, require men for agricultural purposes. He, therefore, retains the male issue, who in time will be useful to him. Some years ago, some Koravas were convicted of stealing the despatch-box of the Collector of a certain district from his tent. It came out, in the course of the trial, that the head of the gang had taken the money contained therein as his share, and with it acquired a wife. The Collector humorously claimed that the woman, having been obtained with his money, was, according to a section of the Criminal Procedure Code, his property.

In North Arcot, the Koravas are known to “mortgage their unmarried daughters, who become the complete property of the person who lends until the debt is paid off. This same practice is found in Chingleput and Tanjore. In Madras, the Koravars directly sell their wives when they need cash, for a sum of fifty rupees. In Nellore and other areas, they all buy their wives, with prices ranging from thirty to seventy rupees, but money rarely changes hands during these transactions; the payment is often made in donkeys or cattle.” In a recent case in the Madras High Court, a Korava mentioned that he sold one of his wives for twenty-one rupees. Dr. Pope states that the Koravas do not hesitate to pawn their wives for debt. If the wife who is pledged dies a natural death, the debt is considered settled. If she dies from mistreatment, the creditor not only has to cancel the debt but also cover the expenses for the debtor's second marriage. If the woman survives until the debt is paid off, and if she has children with the creditor, the boys stay with him while the girls go back to their husband. The conditions in the region explain why wives are pawned; a wife would be mortgaged during hard times, and redeemed in periods of abundance. The man who can afford to take her as collateral during a famine would need laborers for farming when times are good, thus keeping the male children, who would eventually be helpful. A few years ago, some Koravas were found guilty of stealing the dispatch box of a district Collector from his tent. During the trial, it was revealed that the leader of the gang took the money inside as his cut and used it to buy a wife. The Collector jokingly claimed that since the woman was purchased with his money, she was, according to a section of the Criminal Procedure Code, his property.

A woman who marries seven men successively one after the other, either after the death of her husbands or [489]after divorce, is said by Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu to be considered to be a respectable lady, and is called Pedda Bōyisāni. She takes the lead in marriages and other religious ceremonies.

A woman who marries seven men one after another, either after her husbands die or after a divorce, is considered a respectable lady, according to Mr. Paupa Rao Naidu, and is referred to as Pedda Bōyisāni. She takes charge in weddings and other religious ceremonies.

It is noted, in the Census Report, 1891, that “if a man is sent to jail, his wife will form a connection with some other man of the gang, but on the release of her husband, she will return to him with any children born to her in the interval. The Korava women are accustomed to honour their lords and husbands with the dignified title of cocks.” On one occasion, a Korava got into trouble in company with a friend, and was sentenced to three years imprisonment, while his friend got two years. The latter, at the termination of his period of enforced seclusion, proceeded to live with the wife of the former, settling down in his friend’s abode. The former escaped from jail, and, turning up at his home, claimed his wife. His friend journeyed to the place where the jail was located, and reported to the authorities his ability to find the escaped convict, who was recaptured, while his friend regained possession of his wife, and pocketed twenty-five rupees for giving the information which led to his rearrest.

It’s noted in the Census Report, 1891, that “if a man goes to jail, his wife will connect with another man from the gang, but when her husband is released, she’ll go back to him with any children she had during that time. The Korava women are used to honoring their lords and husbands with the respectable title of cocks.” One time, a Korava got into trouble with a friend and was sentenced to three years in prison, while his friend received two years. When his sentence was over, the friend moved in with the former’s wife, settling down in his friend's home. The former escaped from jail, and when he showed up at home, he claimed his wife. His friend went to the jail and told the authorities that he could find the escaped convict, leading to the convict’s recapture, while the friend got his wife back and pocketed twenty-five rupees for the tip that led to the arrest.

The remarriage of widows is permitted. The man who wishes to marry a widow purchases new cloths for himself and his bride. He invites a number of friends, and, in their presence, presents his bride with the cloths. The simple ceremony is known as chīrakattu-kōradam, or desiring the cloth-tying ceremony.

The remarriage of widows is allowed. The man who wants to marry a widow buys new clothes for himself and his bride. He invites several friends, and in front of them, he gives his bride the clothes. This simple ceremony is called chīrakattu-kōradam, or the cloth-tying ceremony.

As a general rule, the Korava wife is faithful to her husband, but, in the event of incompatibility, man and wife will announce their intention of separating to their gang. This is considered equivalent to a divorce, and the husband can demand back the four annas, which [490]were paid as earnest money to his wife’s maternal uncle. This is said to be done, whether the separation is due to the fault either of the husband or the wife. Among other castes, the woman has to return the money only if she is divorced owing to her own fault. Divorce is said to be rare, and, even after it has taken place, the divorced parties may make up their differences, and continue to keep house together. In cases of abduction, the father of the girl summons a council meeting, at which the offender is fined. A girl who has been abducted cannot be married as a spinster, even if she was recovered before sexual connection had taken place. The man who carried her off should marry her, and the ceremony of widow marriage is performed. In the event of his refusing to marry her, he is fined in the same amount as the parents of a girl who fail to keep the contract to marry her to a particular person. The fact of a man who abducts a girl having a wife already would be no bar to his marrying her, as polygamy is freely permitted. In former days, an adulterer who was unable to pay the fine imposed was tied to a tree, and shaved by a barber, who used the urine of the guilty woman in lieu of water.

As a general rule, a Korava wife is loyal to her husband, but if they’re not getting along, both partners will inform their community of their intention to separate. This is treated like a divorce, and the husband can ask for the four annas that were paid as a deposit to his wife’s maternal uncle. This applies whether the separation is due to problems with either partner. In other communities, the woman only has to return the money if she gets divorced because of her own mistakes. Divorce is said to be uncommon, and even after it happens, the divorced couple may resolve their issues and continue living together. In cases of abduction, the girl’s father calls a council meeting, where the offender is fined. A girl who has been abducted cannot be considered unmarried, even if she is rescued before any sexual activity occurs. The man who took her must marry her, and a widow marriage ceremony is held. If he refuses to marry her, he faces a fine similar to that of parents who break a contract to marry their daughter to a specific person. A man who abducts a girl does not face an issue if he already has a wife, as polygamy is accepted. In the past, an adulterer who couldn’t pay the fine was tied to a tree and shaved by a barber using the guilty woman's urine instead of water.

In connection with birth ceremonies, Mr. Fawcett writes as follows. “Difficulty in parturition is thought to be due to an ungratified desire of the woman before she is confined. This is generally something to eat, but it is sometimes ungratified lust. In cases of the latter kind, the Koravar midwife induces the woman to mention her paramour’s name, and, as the name is mentioned, the midwife puts a pinch of earth into the woman’s mouth with the idea of accelerating delivery. The woman is confined in an outlying hut, where she is tabu to all, with the exception of the midwife, for about ten days. As soon as the child is born, incense is burnt in front [491]of this hut, and there is an offering of jaggery (crude sugar) to the spirits of the departed elders, who are invoked in the following words in the Korava dialect:—‘Ye spirits of our elders! Descend on us, give us help, and increase our cattle and wealth. Save us from the Sircar (Government), and shut the mouth of the police. We shall worship you for ever and ever.’ The jaggery is then distributed to all present, and the new-born infant is cleaned with cow-dung and washed. A Brahman is sometimes consulted, but it is the maternal uncle upon whom the responsibility falls of naming the child. This he does on the ninth day after confinement, when the mother and child are bathed. Having named the child, he ties a string of thread or cotton round its waist. This string signifies the entry of the child into the Koravar community, and it, or its substitute, is worn until the termination of married life. The name given on this occasion is not usually the name by which an individual is known by his fellows, as persons are generally called after some physical trait or characteristic thus:—Nallavādu, black man; Pottigādu, short man; Nettakalādu, long-legged man; Kuntādu, lame man; Boggagādu, fat man; Juttuvādu, man with a large tuft of hair; Gunadu, hunch-backed man; Mugadu, dumb man; and so on. In a few cases, children are genuinely named after the household deities. Those so named are called Rāmudu, Lachigādu, Venkatigādu, Gengadu, Chengadu, Subbadu, Ankaligādu, and so on. An old custom was to brand the children on the shoulders with a piece of red-hot iron. Marks of such branding are called the cattle mark, for it seems that children should be branded on the shoulders before undertaking the ‘sacred duty’ of tending cattle. They explain the custom by saying that Krishna, the God of the shepherds, [492]allowed boys of his own caste, and of no other, to perform the sacred duty, after the boy dedicated thereto had undergone the branding ceremony. This ceremony is seldom observed nowadays, as it leads to identification. Birth of a child on a new-moon night, when the weather is strong, is believed to augur a notorious thieving future for the infant. Such children are commonly named Venkatigādu after the God at Tirupati. The birth of a child having the umbilical cord twisted round its neck portends the death of the father or maternal uncle. This unpleasant effect is warded off by the uncle or the father killing a fowl, and wearing its entrails round his neck, and afterwards burying them along with the umbilical cord.”

In relation to birth ceremonies, Mr. Fawcett writes the following: “Problems during childbirth are believed to stem from an unmet desire of the woman prior to giving birth. This usually relates to a craving for food, but can sometimes be linked to unfulfilled sexual desires. In such cases, the Koravar midwife encourages the woman to speak her lover's name, and as she does, the midwife places a pinch of earth in her mouth, hoping to speed up the delivery. The woman gives birth in a secluded hut, where she is isolated from everyone except the midwife for about ten days. Once the baby is born, incense is burned in front of this hut, and jaggery (unrefined sugar) is offered to the spirits of deceased elders, invoked with the following words in the Korava dialect: ‘O spirits of our ancestors! Come down to us, help us, and increase our cattle and wealth. Protect us from the Government and silence the police. We will worship you forever.’ The jaggery is then shared among all present, and the newborn baby is cleaned with cow dung and bathed. A Brahman may sometimes be consulted, but the responsibility of naming the child falls on the maternal uncle. He names the child on the ninth day after birth, when the mother and child are bathed. After naming the child, he ties a string of thread or cotton around its waist. This string symbolizes the child's entry into the Koravar community and is worn, or its substitute, until married life concludes. The name given at this time is typically not the name the individual is known by among peers, since people are generally referred to by some physical trait or characteristic, such as: Nallavādu (black man), Pottigādu (short man), Nettakalādu (long-legged man), Kuntādu (lame man), Boggagādu (fat man), Juttuvādu (man with a large tuft of hair), Gunadu (hunchbacked man), Mugadu (dumb man), and so on. In a few instances, children are genuinely named after household deities, receiving names like Rāmudu, Lachigādu, Venkatigādu, Gengadu, Chengadu, Subbadu, Ankaligādu, and others. An old tradition was to brand children on their shoulders with a piece of red-hot iron. The marks from this branding are referred to as cattle marks, as it was believed that children should be branded before taking on the ‘sacred duty’ of tending cattle. They explain this tradition by stating that Krishna, the God of shepherds, allowed boys of his own caste, and no others, to fulfill this sacred duty after undergoing the branding ceremony. This ceremony is rarely practiced nowadays, as it leads to identification. The birth of a child on a new-moon night, when the weather is tempestuous, is thought to signify a future in notorious thievery for the infant. These children are often named Venkatigādu after the God at Tirupati. If a child is born with the umbilical cord wrapped around its neck, it is believed to foreshadow the father or maternal uncle's death. To ward off this misfortune, the uncle or father must kill a fowl, wear its entrails around his neck, and later bury them along with the umbilical cord.”

The practice of the couvade, or custom in accordance with which the father takes to bed, and is doctored when a baby is born, is referred to by Alberuni224 (about A.D. 1030), who says that, when a child is born, people show particular attention to the man, not to the woman. There is a Tamil proverb that, if a Korati is brought to bed, her husband takes the prescribed stimulant. Writing about the Yerukalas,225 the Rev. J. Cain tells us that “directly the woman feels the birth pains, she informs her husband, who immediately takes some of her clothes, puts them on, places on his forehead the mark which the women usually place on theirs, retires into a dark room where there is only a very dim lamp, and lies down on the bed, covering himself up with a long cloth. When the child is born, it is washed, and placed on the cot beside the father. Asafœtida, jaggery, and other articles are then given, not to the mother, but to the father. He is not allowed to leave his bed, but has [493]everything needful brought to him.” Among the Kuravars, or basket-makers of Malabar, “as soon as the pains of delivery come upon a pregnant woman, she is taken to an outlying shed, and left alone to live or die as the event may turn out. No help is given her for twenty-eight days. Even medicines are thrown to her from a distance; and the only assistance rendered is to place a jar of warm water close by her just before the child is born. Pollution from birth is held as worse than that from death. At the end of the twenty-eight days, the hut in which she was confined is burnt down. The father, too, is polluted for fourteen days, and, at the end of that time, he is purified, not like other castes by the barber, but by holy water obtained from Brāhmans at temples or elsewhere.” To Mr. G. Krishna Rao, Superintendent of Police in the Shimoga district of Mysore, I am indebted for the following note on the couvade as practiced among the Koramas. “Mr. Rice, in the Mysore Gazetteer, says that among the Koravars it is said that, when a woman is confined, her husband takes medicine for her. At the instance of the British Resident I made enquiries, and learned that the Kukke (basket-making) Koramas, living at Gōpāla village near Shimoga, had this custom among them. The husband learns from his wife the probable time of her confinement, and keeps at home awaiting the delivery. As soon as she is confined, he goes to bed for three days, and takes medicine consisting of chicken and mutton broth spiced with ginger, pepper, onions, garlic, etc. He drinks arrack, and eats as good food as he can afford, while his wife is given boiled rice with a very small quantity of salt, for fear that a larger quantity may induce thirst. There is generally a Korama midwife to help the wife, and the husband does nothing but [494]eat, drink, and sleep. The clothes of the husband, the wife, and the midwife are given to a washerman to be washed on the fourth day, and the persons themselves have a wash. After this purification, the family gives a dinner to the caste people. One of the men examined by me explained that the man’s life was more valuable than that of the woman, and that the husband, being a more important factor in the birth than the wife, deserves to be better looked after.” The following legend is current among the Koramas, to explain the practice of the couvade among them. One day a donkey, belonging to a Korama camp, pitched outside a village, wandered into a Brāhman’s field, and did considerable damage to the crop. The Brāhman was naturally angry, and ordered his coolies to pull down the hut of the owner of the donkey. The Korama, casting himself at the feet of the Brāhman, for want of a better excuse, said that he was not aware of what his animal was doing, as at the time he was taking medicine for his wife, and could not look after it. According to another version of the story, the Brāhman ordered his servants to remove the hut from his land or beat the Korava, so that Koravas have since that time taken to bed and shared the pollution of their wives, to escape being beaten.

The practice of the couvade, where the father goes to bed and is cared for when a baby is born, is mentioned by Alberuni224 (around A.D. 1030). He notes that when a child is born, people pay more attention to the man than to the woman. There's a Tamil proverb stating that when a Korati gives birth, her husband takes the necessary stimulant. The Rev. J. Cain writes about the Yerukalas225, saying that when a woman feels labor pains, she tells her husband. He immediately puts on some of her clothes, marks his forehead like the women do, retreats to a dark room with a dim lamp, and lies down under a long cloth. After the child is born, it is washed and placed on the bed next to the father. Items like asafetida, jaggery, and others are given to the father, not the mother. He’s not allowed to leave bed and has [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]everything he needs brought to him. Among the Kuravars, the basket-makers of Malabar, as soon as a pregnant woman feels labor pains, she is taken to an isolated shed and left alone to either live or die. She receives no help for twenty-eight days, even medicines are thrown to her from afar; the only aid is a jar of warm water placed nearby right before the birth. Birth pollution is considered worse than death pollution. At the end of twenty-eight days, the shed where she was confined is burned down. The father is also considered polluted for fourteen days, and after that, he is purified, not by the barber like other castes, but with holy water obtained from Brāhmans at temples or other places. I am thankful to Mr. G. Krishna Rao, Superintendent of Police in the Shimoga district of Mysore, for this note on the couvade among the Koramas. “Mr. Rice, in the Mysore Gazetteer, mentions that among the Koravars, when a woman gives birth, her husband takes medicine for her. Upon the request of the British Resident, I made inquiries and found that the Kukke (basket-making) Koramas in Gōpāla village near Shimoga practice this custom. The husband learns from his wife when she is likely to give birth and stays at home waiting for the delivery. Once she is in labor, he goes to bed for three days and takes chicken and mutton broth spiced with ginger, pepper, onions, garlic, etc. He drinks arrack and eats the best food he can afford while his wife gets boiled rice with a tiny amount of salt, so she won’t get too thirsty. There is usually a Korama midwife to assist the wife, and during this time, the husband does nothing but [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]eat, drink, and sleep. On the fourth day, a washerman cleans the clothes of the husband, wife, and midwife, and they all have a wash. After this cleansing, the family hosts a dinner for the people of their caste. One of the men I spoke to explained that a man’s life is considered more valuable than a woman’s, and since the husband plays a bigger role in the birth than the wife, he deserves to be better cared for.” A legend among the Koramas explains this couvade practice. One day, a donkey from a Korama camp outside a village wandered into a Brāhman’s field and damaged the crops. The Brāhman was understandably upset and told his workers to demolish the hut of the donkey’s owner. The Korama, seeking an excuse, pleaded with the Brāhman, saying he hadn’t been aware of his donkey’s actions because he was busy taking medicine for his wife and couldn’t keep an eye on it. In another version, the Brāhman ordered his men to either remove the hut from his land or beat the Korava. Since then, Koravas have followed the couvade practice to avoid being beaten and share the pollution of their wives.

In connection with the couvade, Mr. Fawcett writes that “it has been observed in the bird-catching Koravars, and the custom has been admitted by others. Directly a woman is brought to bed, she is given asafœtida rolled in betel leaf. She is then given a stimulant composed of asafœtida and other drugs. The husband partakes of a portion of this before it is given to the woman. This custom is one of those which the Koravar is generally at pains to conceal, denying its existence absolutely. The proverb ‘When [495]the Koravar woman is confined, the Koravar man takes asafœtida’ is, however, well known. Very soon after a woman is confined, attention is paid exclusively to her husband, who wraps himself in his wife’s cloth, and lies down in his wife’s place beside the new-born infant. He stays there for at least some minutes, and then makes room for his wife. The writer of this note was informed by Koravars that any one who refused to go through this ceremony would undergo the severest penalties, indeed, he would be turned out of the community. Nothing annoys a Koravar so much as to mention the word asafœtida in his presence, for he takes it to be an insulting reference to the couvade. The worst insult to a Koravar woman lies in the words ‘Will you give asafœtida?’ which are understood by her to mean an improper overture.”

In relation to the couvade, Mr. Fawcett notes that “it has been seen among the bird-catching Koravars, and the custom has been recognized by others. As soon as a woman gives birth, she is given asafœtida wrapped in betel leaf. She is then provided with a stimulant made of asafœtida and other drugs. The husband consumes some of this before it is given to the woman. This practice is generally one that the Koravar goes to great lengths to hide, fully denying its existence. The proverb ‘When [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the Koravar woman gives birth, the Koravar man takes asafœtida’ is, however, well known. Shortly after a woman gives birth, all attention shifts to her husband, who wraps himself in his wife’s cloth and lies down in her place next to the newborn. He remains there for at least a few minutes before making space for her. The author of this note was told by Koravars that anyone who refuses to participate in this ceremony would face serious consequences, even being expelled from the community. Nothing bothers a Koravar more than hearing the word asafœtida in conversation, as it is seen as an insulting reference to the couvade. The greatest insult to a Koravar woman comes from the words ‘Will you give asafœtida?, which she interprets as an inappropriate advance.”

Some Koravas are said to believe that the pangs of labour are largely allayed by drinking small doses of a mixture of the dung of a male donkey and water. A few years ago, when a camp of Koravas was visited in the Salem district by the Superintendent of Police, two men of the gang, who had petitioned for the removal of the constables who were escorting the gang, dragged a woman in the throes of childbirth by the armpits from the hut. This was done to show that they could not move their camp, with a woman in such a condition. Nevertheless, long before daylight on the following day, the camp had been moved, and they were found at a spot fifteen miles distant. When they were asked about the woman, a hut slightly apart from the rest was pointed out, in front of which she was suckling the newly-born infant. She had done the journey immediately after delivery partly on foot, and partly on a donkey. [496]

Some Koravas apparently believe that drinking a small mixture of male donkey dung and water can ease the pains of labor. A few years ago, when the Superintendent of Police visited a Korava camp in the Salem district, two men from the group, who had requested the removal of the constables accompanying them, pulled a woman in labor out of her hut by her armpits. They did this to demonstrate that they couldn't move their camp with a woman in that condition. However, by early morning the next day, the camp had moved and was found fifteen miles away. When questioned about the woman, they pointed to a hut a little distance from the others, where she was breastfeeding her newborn. She had made the journey right after giving birth, partly on foot and partly on a donkey. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Korava child’s technical education commences early. From infancy, the Koravas teach their children to answer “I do not know” to questions put to them. They are taught the different methods of stealing, and the easiest way of getting into various kinds of houses. One must be entered through the roof, another by a hole in the wall, a third by making a hole near the bolt of the door. Before letting himself down from a roof, the Korava must make sure that he does not alight on brass vessels or crockery. He generally sprinkles fine sand in small quantities, so that the noise made thereby may give him an idea of the situation. The methods to be adopted during the day, when hawking wares, must be learnt. When a child is caught red-handed, he will never reveal his identity by giving the name of his parents, or of the gang to which he belongs. A girl about twelve or thirteen years old was captured a few years ago in the Mysore State at the Oregam weekly market, and, on being searched, was found to have a small knife in her cheek. She declared that she was an orphan with neither friends nor relations, but was identified by the police. The Koravas are adepts at assuming aliases. But the system of finger-print records, which has been introduced in recent years, renders the concealment of their identity more difficult than it used to be. “Both men and women,” Mr. Paupa Rao writes, “have tattoo marks on their foreheads and forearms. When they are once convicted, they enlarge or alter in some way the tattoo marks on their forearms, so that they might differ from the previous descriptive marks of identification entered by the police in their search books and other records. During festivals, they put red stuff (kunkuma) over the tattoo marks on their foreheads.” [497]

The Korava child's technical education starts early. From a young age, the Koravas teach their kids to respond with “I don’t know” to questions directed at them. They learn different techniques for stealing and the simplest ways to break into various types of houses. Some need to be accessed through the roof, others through a hole in the wall, and some by creating a hole near the door lock. Before climbing down from a roof, the Korava must be careful not to land on metal or ceramic items. They usually sprinkle fine sand in small amounts to be able to gauge the situation by the noise it makes. They must also learn the techniques to use during the day when selling goods. If a child gets caught in the act, they will never give away their identity by naming their parents or the gang they belong to. A girl around twelve or thirteen was caught a few years ago at the Oregam weekly market in Mysore State, and upon being searched, a small knife was found hidden in her cheek. She claimed to be an orphan with no friends or family but was recognized by the police. The Koravas are skilled at using aliases. However, the introduction of fingerprint records in recent years has made it harder for them to hide their identities than before. “Both men and women,” Mr. Paupa Rao writes, “have tattoos on their foreheads and forearms. Once they have been convicted, they alter or enhance the tattoos on their forearms so that they differ from the previous identifying marks recorded by the police in their search books and other documents. During festivals, they apply red powder (kunkuma) over the tattoos on their foreheads.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Their conduct is regulated by certain well-defined rules. They should not enter a house by the front door, unless this is unavoidable, and, if they must so enter it, they must not leave by the same way. If they enter by the back door, they depart by the front door, which they leave wide open. They should not commit robbery in a house, in which they have partaken of rice and curds. Curds always require salt, and eating salt is equivalent to taking the oath of fealty according to their code of honour. They ease themselves in the house in which they have committed a theft, in order, it is said, to render the pursuit of them unsuccessful.

Their behavior is guided by specific rules. They shouldn’t go into a house through the front door unless it’s absolutely necessary, and if they do, they can’t leave the same way. If they enter through the back door, they must exit through the front and leave it wide open. They shouldn’t steal from a house where they’ve eaten rice and curds. Curds always need salt, and eating salt is like taking an oath of loyalty according to their code of honor. They relieve themselves in the house where they’ve committed a theft, supposedly to make it harder for anyone to chase after them.

In a note on the initiation of Yerukala girls into the profession of fortune-telling in Vizagapatam, Mr. Hayavadana Rao writes that it is carried out on a Sunday succeeding the first puberty ceremony. A caste feast, with plenty of strong drink, is held, but the girl herself fasts. The feast over, she is taken to a spot at a little distance from the settlement called Yerukonda. This is said to be the name of a place on the trunk road between Vizianagram and Chicacole, to which girls were taken in former times to be initiated. The girl is blindfolded with a cloth. Boiled rice and green gram are mixed with the blood of a black fowl, black pig, and black goat, which are killed. Of this mixture she must take at least three morsels, and, if she does not vomit, it is taken as a sign that she will become a good Yeruka or fortune-teller. Vomiting would indicate that she would be a false prophetess.

In a note about the initiation of Yerukala girls into fortune-telling in Vizagapatam, Mr. Hayavadana Rao mentions that it takes place on a Sunday after the first puberty ceremony. A caste feast, with lots of strong drinks, is held, but the girl herself doesn’t eat. After the feast, she is taken to a location a little away from the settlement called Yerukonda. This is said to be a place along the main road between Vizianagram and Chicacole, where girls were traditionally taken for initiation. The girl is blindfolded with a cloth. Boiled rice and green gram are mixed with the blood of a black hen, black pig, and black goat, which are sacrificed. She has to consume at least three bites of this mixture, and if she doesn’t vomit, it’s seen as a sign that she will become a good Yeruka, or fortune-teller. If she vomits, it indicates she will be a false prophetess.

When a wandering Korava dies, he is buried as quickly as possible, with head to the north, and feet to the south. If possible, a new cloth is obtained to wrap the corpse in. The grave is covered with the last hut which the deceased occupied. The Koravas immediately [498]leave a camp, in which a death has occurred. The nomad Koravas are said by Dr. Pope to bury their dead at night, no one knows where. Thence originates the common saying in regard to anything which has vanished, leaving no trace behind, that it has gone to the dancing-room of the wandering actors. Another proverb runs to the effect that no one has seen a dead monkey, or the burning-ground of a Korava.

When a wandering Korava dies, they are buried as quickly as possible, with their head facing north and their feet facing south. If possible, new cloth is used to wrap the body. The grave is covered with the last hut the deceased stayed in. The Koravas immediately [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]leave the camp where the death occurred. Nomadic Koravas, according to Dr. Pope, are said to bury their dead at night, and no one knows where. This leads to the common saying about anything that has disappeared without a trace: it has gone to the dancing room of the wandering actors. Another saying suggests that no one has seen a dead monkey or the burial ground of a Korava.

In Vizagapatam, the Yerukala dead are stated by Mr. Hayavadana Rao to be burnt in a state of nudity. A tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum) is usually planted on the spot where the corpse was burnt. The relations cannot follow their regular occupation until a caste feast has been held, and some cooked food thrown on the spot where cremation took place.

In Vizagapatam, Mr. Hayavadana Rao mentions that the Yerukala community members are cremated in a state of nudity. A tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum) is typically planted at the site of the cremation. The family members can’t resume their normal activities until a caste feast is conducted and some cooked food is scattered at the location where the cremation occurred.

In a note on the death rites of the Koravas of the southern districts, Mr. F. A. Hamilton writes that, when one of the community dies, the news of the death is conveyed by a Paraiyan or Chakkiliyan. At the burning-ground, whither the corpse is accompanied with music, it is laid on dried cow-dung, which has been spread on the ground. The son of the deceased goes thrice round the corpse, and breaks a new water-pot which he has brought with him near the head. He also hands over a piece of burning sandalwood for lighting the pyre, and goes straight home without seeing the corpse again. On the third day, the son and other relations go to the burning-ground, heap up the ashes, plant either tulsi (Ocimum sanctum), pērandai (Vitis quadrangularis), or kathalai (Agave Americana), and pour milk. On the sixteenth day, or at some later time, a ceremony called karumathi is performed. The relatives assemble at the burning-ground, and a stone is set up, and washed with water, honey, milk, etc. On the following [499]day, all the relatives take an oil-bath, and new cloths are presented to the host. Sheep are killed, and a feast, with a liberal supply of liquor, is held. Till this ceremony is performed, the son remains in mourning.

In a note about the death customs of the Koravas from the southern regions, Mr. F. A. Hamilton explains that when someone from the community passes away, a Paraiyan or Chakkiliyan delivers the news. At the cremation site, where the body is taken accompanied by music, it is placed on dried cow dung spread on the ground. The deceased's son walks around the body three times and then breaks a new water pot he brought near the head. He also gives a piece of burning sandalwood to light the pyre and then goes home without looking at the body again. On the third day, the son and other family members go to the cremation ground, gather the ashes, plant either tulsi (Ocimum sanctum), pērandai (Vitis quadrangularis), or kathalai (Agave Americana), and pour milk. On the sixteenth day, or later, a ceremony called karumathi is held. The relatives gather at the cremation site; a stone is erected and washed with water, honey, milk, and other substances. The next [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]day, all the relatives take an oil bath, and new clothes are offered to the host. Sheep are sacrificed, and a feast is held, complete with plenty of alcohol. The son remains in mourning until this ceremony takes place.

Concerning death ceremonies, Mr. Fawcett writes as follows. “A Tamil proverb likens the death of a Koravar to that of a monkey, for no one ever sees the dead body of either. Just as the monkey is thought to be immortal, the other monkeys removing the carcass instantly, so the corpse of the Koravar is made away with and disposed of with all possible speed. There is very little wailing, and preparations are made at once. If the deceased was married, the bier on which he is carried is practically a ladder; if unmarried, it is a single bamboo with pieces of stick placed transversely. The winding-sheet is always a piece of new cloth, in one corner of which is tied a half anna-piece (which is afterwards taken by one of the corpse-bearers). Only two of these are under pollution, which lasts the whole of the day, during which they must remain in their huts. Next day, after bathing, they give the crows food and milk. A line is drawn on the body from head to foot with milk, the thick end of a piece of grass being used as a brush; then they bathe. Pollution of the chief mourner lasts for five days. Half-yearly and annual ceremonies to the deceased are compulsory. A figure of the deceased is drawn with charcoal on a piece of new cloth spread on the floor of the hut. On either side of the figure is placed cooked rice and vegetables served on castor leaves. After some time, the food is placed on a new winnow, which is hung suspended from the roof of the hut the whole night. Next morning, the relations assemble, and partake of the food.” [500]

Concerning death ceremonies, Mr. Fawcett writes as follows. “A Tamil proverb compares the death of a Koravar to that of a monkey, as no one ever sees the dead body of either. Just like the monkey is believed to be immortal, with the other monkeys quickly removing the carcass, the body of the Koravar is also swiftly taken away and disposed of. There is very little mourning, and preparations begin immediately. If the deceased was married, the bier they are carried on resembles a ladder; if unmarried, it's a single bamboo with sticks placed across. The body is wrapped in a new piece of cloth, and in one corner, a half anna coin is tied (which is later taken by one of the bearers). Only two people are considered impure, and this lasts the entire day, during which they must stay in their huts. The next day, after bathing, they feed the crows with food and milk. A line is drawn on the body from head to toe with milk, using the thick end of a piece of grass as a brush; then they bathe again. The main mourner remains in a state of impurity for five days. Ceremonies for the deceased are required every six months and annually. A figure of the deceased is drawn in charcoal on a new piece of cloth laid out on the hut's floor. On either side of this figure, cooked rice and vegetables are placed on castor leaves. After a while, the food is moved onto a new winnow, which is hung from the roof of the hut for the whole night. The next morning, family members gather and share the food.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

From a note on the Yerukalas of the Nellore district, I gather that, as a rule, the dead are buried, though respected elders of the community are cremated. Married individuals are carried to the grave on a bier, those who die unmarried wrapped in a mat. On the second day, some cooked food, and a fowl, are placed near the grave, to be eaten by crows. A pot of water is carried thrice round the grave, and then thrown down. On the ninth day, food is once more offered for the crows. The final death ceremonies are generally performed after two or three months. Cooked food, onions, brinjals (fruits of Solanum Melongena), Phaseolus pulse, squash gourd (Cucurbita maxima), pork, and mutton are placed on a number of castor (Ricinus) leaves spread on the floor, and offered to the soul of the deceased, which is represented by a human figure drawn on a new cloth. At the conclusion of the worship, the food is placed on new winnowing trays provided for the purpose, and given to the relations, who place the winnows on the roof of the house till the following day, when the food is eaten.

From a note on the Yerukalas of the Nellore district, I understand that, generally, the dead are buried, although respected elders of the community are cremated. Married individuals are taken to the grave on a bier, while those who die unmarried are wrapped in a mat. On the second day, some cooked food and a chicken are placed near the grave for the crows to eat. A pot of water is walked around the grave three times and then poured out. On the ninth day, food is offered again for the crows. The final death ceremonies usually take place after two or three months. Cooked food, onions, eggplants, pulses, squash, pork, and mutton are laid out on a number of castor leaves spread on the ground and offered to the soul of the deceased, which is symbolized by a human figure drawn on a new cloth. At the end of the worship, the food is put on new winnowing trays set aside for this purpose, and given to the relatives, who place the trays on the roof of the house until the next day, when the food is eaten.

By some Koravas, a ceremony in honour of the departed ancestors is performed at the time of the November new moon. A well-polished brass vessel, with red and white marks on it, is placed in the corner of a room, which has previously been swept, and purified with cow-dung. In front of the pot is placed a leaf plate, on which cooked rice and other edibles are set. Incense is burned, and the eldest son of the house partakes of the food in the hope that he, in due course, will be honoured by his offspring.

By some Koravas, a ceremony in honor of the departed ancestors is held during the November new moon. A well-polished brass vessel, marked with red and white, is placed in the corner of a room that has been swept and purified with cow dung. In front of the pot, a leaf plate is set, containing cooked rice and other foods. Incense is burned, and the eldest son of the house shares in the food, hoping that in time, he will receive the same honor from his children.

The Koramas of Mysore are said to experience considerable difficulty in finding men to undertake the work of carrying the corpse to the grave. Should the dead Korama be a man who has left a young widow, it is [501]customary for some one to propose to marry her the same day, and, by so doing, to engage to carry out the principal part of the work connected with the burial. A shallow grave, barely two feet deep, is dug, and the corpse laid therein. When the soil has been loosely piled in, a pot of fire, carried by the chief mourner in a split bamboo, is broken, and a pot of water placed on the raised mound. Should the spot be visited during the night by a pack of jackals, and the water drunk by them to slake their thirst after feasting on the dead Korama, the omen is accepted as proof that the liberated spirit has fled away to the realms of the dead, and will never trouble man, woman, child, or cattle. On the sixth day, the chief mourner must kill a fowl, and mix its blood with rice. This he places, with some betel leaves and nuts, near the grave. If it is carried off by crows, everything is considered to have been settled satisfactorily.

The Koramas of Mysore reportedly have a hard time finding people to help carry the corpse to the grave. If the deceased Korama is a man who left a young widow, it is [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] customary for someone to propose to marry her that same day and, in doing so, to take on the main responsibilities associated with the burial. A shallow grave, just two feet deep, is dug, and the body is placed inside. Once the soil has been loosely piled on top, a pot of fire, carried by the chief mourner in a split bamboo, is broken, and a pot of water is put on the raised mound. If a pack of jackals visits the spot at night and drinks the water after feasting on the deceased Korama, this is seen as a good sign that the spirit has moved on to the afterlife and will not trouble anyone—man, woman, child, or livestock. On the sixth day, the chief mourner must kill a bird and mix its blood with rice. This mixture, along with some betel leaves and nuts, is placed near the grave. If crows take it away, it is believed that everything has been resolved satisfactorily.

As regards the dress of the Koravas, Mr. Mullaly writes as follows. “The women wear necklaces of shells and cowries interspersed with beads of all colours in several rows, hanging low down on the bosom; brass bangles from the wrist to the elbow; brass, lead, and silver rings, very roughly made, on all their fingers except the middle one. The cloth peculiar to Koravar women is a coarse black one; but they are, as a rule, not particular as to this, and wear stolen cloths after removing the borders and all marks of identification. They also wear the chola, which is fastened across the bosom, and not, like the Lambādis, at the back. The men are dirty, unkempt-looking objects, wear their hair long, and usually tied in a knot on the top of the head, and indulge in little finery. A joochi (gochi), or cloth round the loins, and a bag called vadi sanchi, made of striped cloth, complete their toilet.” [502]

As for the clothing of the Koravas, Mr. Mullaly writes the following: “The women wear necklaces made of shells and cowries mixed with colorful beads in several layers, hanging low on their chests; brass bangles from their wrists to their elbows; and rough brass, lead, and silver rings on all their fingers except the middle one. The fabric unique to Koravar women is a coarse black material; however, they generally don't pay much attention to this and wear stolen fabrics after removing the borders and any identifying marks. They also wear a chola, which is fastened across the chest instead of at the back like the Lambādis. The men look dirty and unkempt, wear their hair long, usually tied up in a knot on top of their heads, and don’t tend to wear much decoration. A joochi (gochi), or cloth around the waist, and a bag called vadi sanchi, made of striped fabric, complete their outfit.” [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In 1884, Mr. Stevenson, who was then the District Superintendent of Police, North Arcot, devised a scheme for the regeneration of the Koravas of that district. He obtained for the tribe a tract of Government land near Gudiyattam, free of assessment for ten years, and also a grant of Rs. 200 for sinking wells. Licenses were also issued to the settlers to cut firewood at specially favourable rates. He also prevailed upon the Zemindar of Karvetnegar to grant twenty-five cawnies of land in Tiruttani for ten years for another settlement, as well as some building materials. Unfortunately the impecunious condition of the Zemindar precluded the Tiruttani settlement from deriving any further privileges which were necessary to keep the colony going, and its existence was, therefore, cut short. The Gudiyattam colony, on the other hand, exhibited some vitality for two or three years, but, in 1887, it, too, went the way of the Tiruttani colony.”226 I gather, from the Police Administration Report, 1906, that a scheme is being worked out, the object of which is to give a well-known wandering criminal gang some cultivable land, and so enable the members of it to settle down to an honest livelihood.

In 1884, Mr. Stevenson, who was the District Superintendent of Police in North Arcot at the time, came up with a plan to help improve the lives of the Koravas in that area. He secured a piece of Government land near Gudiyattam for the tribe, free from taxes for ten years, and also received a grant of Rs. 200 to dig wells. Licenses were issued to the settlers to gather firewood at specially low rates. He also convinced the Zemindar of Karvetnegar to provide twenty-five cawnies of land in Tiruttani for another settlement for ten years, along with some building materials. Unfortunately, the Zemindar’s lack of funds prevented the Tiruttani settlement from receiving further support it needed to thrive, leading to its early closure. In contrast, the Gudiyattam colony showed some promise for two or three years, but by 1887, it also ceased to exist, similar to the Tiruttani colony. I found in the Police Administration Report of 1906 that a new plan is being developed, aimed at giving a well-known wandering criminal gang some arable land, allowing its members to settle down and earn an honest living.

At the census, 1891, Korava was returned as a sub-division of Paraiyans, and the name is also applied to Jōgis employed as scavengers.227

At the 1891 census, Korava was listed as a sub-division of Paraiyans, and the name is also used for Jōgis who work as scavengers.227

The following note on the Koravas of the west coast is interesting as showing that Malabar is one of the homes of the now popular game of Diavolo, which has become epidemic in some European countries. “In Malabar, there is a class of people called Koravas, who [503]have, from time immemorial, played this game almost in the same manner as its Western devotees do at the present time. These people are met with mostly in the southern parts of Malabar, Cochin and Travancore, and they speak the Malayālam language with a sing-song accent, which easily distinguishes them from other people. They are of wandering habits. The men are clever acrobats and rope-dancers, but those of more settled habits are engaged in agriculture and other industries. The beautiful grass mats, known as Palghat mats, are woven by these people. Their women are fortune-tellers and ballad singers. Their services are also in demand for boring the ears of girls. The ropedancers perform many wonderful feats while balancing themselves on the rope, among them being the playing of diabolo while walking to and fro on a tight rope. The Korava acrobat spins the wooden spool on a string, attached to the ends of two bamboo sticks, and throws it up to the height of a cocoanut tree, and, when it comes down, he receives it on the string, to be again thrown up. There are experts among them who can receive the spool on the string without even looking at it. There is no noteworthy difference in the structure and shape of the spool used by the Koravas, and those of Europe, except that the Malabar apparatus is a solid wooden thing a little larger and heavier than the Western toy. It has not yet emerged from the crude stage of the village carpenter’s skill, and cannot boast of rubber tyres and other embellishments which adorn the imported article; but it is heavy enough to cause a nasty injury should it hit the performer while falling. The Koravas are a very primitive people, but as acrobats and ropedancers they have continued their profession for generations past, and there is no doubt that they have [504]been expert diabolo players for many years.”228 It may be noted that Lieutenant Cameron, when journeying from Zanzibar to Benguela, was detained near Lake Tanganyika by a native chief. He relates as follows. “Sometimes a slave of Djonmah would amuse us by his dexterity. With two sticks about a foot long connected by a string of a certain length, he spun a piece of wood cut in the shape of an hour-glass, throwing it before and behind him, pitching it up into the air like a cricket-ball, and catching it again, while it continued to spin.”

The following note on the Koravas of the west coast is interesting as it shows that Malabar is one of the homes of the now popular game of Diavolo, which has become widespread in some European countries. “In Malabar, there is a group of people called Koravas, who [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]have been playing this game for ages in almost the same way that its Western fans do today. These people are mostly found in the southern parts of Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore, and they speak the Malayālam language with a sing-song accent that easily sets them apart from others. They have a nomadic lifestyle. The men are skilled acrobats and rope-dancers, while those who settle down often work in agriculture and various industries. They weave the beautiful grass mats known as Palghat mats. The women are fortune-tellers and ballad singers, and they are also sought after for boring the ears of girls. The rope-dancers perform impressive feats while balancing on the rope, including playing diabolo as they walk back and forth on a tightrope. The Korava acrobat spins a wooden spool on a string attached to the ends of two bamboo sticks, tossing it up to the height of a coconut tree, and when it comes down, he catches it on the string to throw it up again. There are experts among them who can catch the spool on the string without even looking. There is no significant difference in the structure and shape of the spool used by the Koravas and those from Europe, except that the Malabar version is a solid wooden piece that is slightly larger and heavier than the Western toy. It has not yet evolved beyond the basic craftsmanship of a village carpenter and lacks the rubber tires and other features that the imported version boasts; however, it is heavy enough to cause serious injury if it falls on the performer. The Koravas are a very primitive people, but as acrobats and rope-dancers, they have practiced their craft for generations, and there is no doubt that they have [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]been expert diabolo players for many years.” 228 It may be noted that Lieutenant Cameron, when traveling from Zanzibar to Benguela, was held up near Lake Tanganyika by a native chief. He describes it like this: “Sometimes a slave of Djonmah would entertain us with his skill. With two sticks about a foot long connected by a string of a certain length, he spun a piece of wood shaped like an hourglass, throwing it back and forth, tossing it into the air like a cricket ball, and catching it again while it kept spinning.”


1 Gazetteer of the Bellary district.

1 Bellary District Gazetteer

2 Madras Diocesan Magazine, June, 1906.

2 Madras Diocesan Magazine, June 1906.

3 John S. Chandler, a Madura Missionary, Boston.

3 John S. Chandler, a missionary from Madura, Boston.

4 Madras Mail, November, 1905.

4 Madras Mail, November 1905.

5 J. Hornell. Report on the Indian Pearl Fisheries of the Gulf of Manaar, 1905.

5 J. Hornell. Report on the Indian Pearl Fisheries of the Gulf of Mannar, 1905.

6 Madras Diocesan Mag., 1906.

6 Chennai Diocesan Magazine, 1906.

7 Notes from a Diary, 1881–86.

7 Diary Notes, 1881–86.

8 Lecture delivered at Trivandrum, MS.

8 Lecture presented in Trivandrum, MS.

9 Nineteenth Century, 1898.

9 19th Century, 1898.

10 Malay Archipelago.

10 Malay Archipelago.

11 Monograph. Ethnog: Survey of Cochin, No. 9, 1906.

11 Monograph. Ethnog: Survey of Cochin, No. 9, 1906.

12 Malabar Manual.

12 Malabar Guide.

13 Manual of the Coimbatore district.

13 Coimbatore District Manual.

14 Madras Journ. Lit. Science, I. 1833.

14 Madras Journ. Lit. Science, I. 1833.

15 W. W. Skeat and C. O. Blagden. Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula, 1906.

15 W. W. Skeat and C. O. Blagden. Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula, 1906.

16 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

16 Malabar District Gazetteer

17 Madras Census Report, 1891.

17 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

18 Manual of Malabar.

18 Malabar Guide.

19 Manual of the North Arcot district.

19 Guide to the North Arcot district.

20 Madras Census Report, 1891.

20 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

21 Manual of the North Arcot district.

21 Guide to the North Arcot district.

22 A reddish formation found all over Southern India.

22 A reddish structure that's commonly found throughout Southern India.

23 Op. cit.

23 Same source.

24 Journey through Mysore, Canara, and Malabar.

24 Explore Mysore, Canara, and Malabar.

25 Rev. H. Jensen. Classified Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897.

25 Rev. H. Jensen. Organized Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897.

26 Manual of the North Arcot district.

26 Handbook for the North Arcot district.

27 Gazetteer of the Trichinopoly district.

27 Gazetteer of the Tiruchirappalli district.

28 For this note I am indebted to Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

28 For this note, I owe thanks to Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

29 Madras Census Report, 1891.

29 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

30 Mokhalingam is in Ganjam, not Vizagapatam.

30 Mokhalingam is in Ganjam, not Visakhapatnam.

31 Place of meeting, which is a large tamarind tree, under which councils are held.

31 Meeting place, which is a big tamarind tree, where councils take place.

32 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

32 Madura district guide.

33 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

33 Madura district gazetteer.

34 Sētupati, or lord of the bridge. The title of the Rājas of Rāmnād.

34 Sētupati, or lord of the bridge. The title of the kings of Rāmnād.

35 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

35 Madura district guide.

36 Madras Census Report, 1891.

36 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

37 Manual of the Madura district.

37 Manual for the Madura district.

38 G. Oppert. Madras Journ. Lit. Science, 1888–9.

38 G. Oppert. Madras Journ. Lit. Science, 1888–9.

39 Madras Census Report, 1901.

39 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

40 Notes on Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.

40 Notes on Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.

41 Madras Review, 1899.

41 Chennai Review, 1899.

42 Madras Census Report, 1891.

42 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

43 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

43 Madura district gazetteer.

44 Op. cit.

44 Same source.

45 Illustrated Criminal Investigation and Law Digest, I, 3, 1908, Vellore.

45 Illustrated Criminal Investigation and Law Digest, I, 3, 1908, Vellore.

46 Madras Journ. Lit. Science, XXV.

46 Chennai Journ. Lit. Science, XXV.

47 I am informed that only Mēl-nādu, Sīrukudi, Mella-kōttai, and Puramalai are endogamous.

47 I've been told that only Mēl-nādu, Sīrukudi, Mella-kōttai, and Puramalai practice endogamy.

48 Madras Census Report, 1891.

48 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

49 Manual of the Madura district.

49 Madura District Manual.

50 Hindu Feasts, Fasts, and Ceremonies, 1903.

50 Hindu Feasts, Fasts, and Ceremonies, 1903.

51 The Tamils eighteen hundred years ago, 1904.

51 The Tamils eighteen hundred years ago, 1904.

52 Madras Census Report, 1901.

52 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

53 Gazetteer of the Tanjore district.

Tanjore district gazetteer.

54 Madras Census Report, 1891.

54 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

55 Madras Mail, 1908.

55 Chennai Mail, 1908.

56 Ind. Ant., III., 1874.

56 Ind. Ant., III., 1874.

57 A lakh = a hundred thousand.

57 A lakh = one hundred thousand.

58 Compare the theft of Laban’s teraphim by Rachel. Genesis, XXXI, 19.

58 Compare the stealing of Laban’s household idols by Rachel. Genesis, XXXI, 19.

59 Gazetteer of the Tanjore district.

59 Tanjore district gazetteer.

60 Madras Census Report, 1891.

60 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

61 Madras Census Report, 1901.

61 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

62 Manual of the North Arcot district.

62 Manual of the North Arcot district.

63 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

63 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

64 Manual of the North Arcot district.

64 Manual of the North Arcot district.

65 Madras Census Report, 1891.

65 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

66 Hutchinson. Marriage Customs in many lands, 1897.

66 Hutchinson. Marriage Traditions in Many Countries, 1897.

67 Gazetteer of the Bellary district.

67 Bellary district gazetteer.

68 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

68 Anantapur district guide.

69 Mediæval Sinhalese Art.

69 Medieval Sinhalese Art.

70 Maduraikanchi, Line 521.

70 Maduraikanchi, Line 521.

71 E. Hultzsch. South Indian Inscriptions, II, i, 44, 46, 1891.

71 E. Hultzsch. South Indian Inscriptions, II, i, 44, 46, 1891.

72 Ibid. III, i, 47, 1899.

72 Same source. III, i, 47, 1899.

73 Madras Census Report, 1891.

73 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

74 Madras Census Report, 1871.

74 Chennai Census Report, 1871.

75 New Asiatic Review, Jan. 1907.

75 New Asiatic Review, Jan 1907.

76 Madras Mail, 1907.

76 Chennai Mail, 1907.

77 Classified Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897, from which some of the proverbs quoted are taken.

77 Classified Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897, from which some of the proverbs quoted are taken.

78 Madras Census Report, 1901.

78 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

79 See the legendary story narrated in the article on Tiyans.

79 Check out the legendary story told in the article about Tiyans.

80 Malabar and its Folk, 1900.

80 Malabar and Its Folk, 1900.

81 Letters from Malabar.

81 Letters from Malabar.

82 Madras Census Report, 1901.

82 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

83 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

83 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

84 Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district.

84 Vizagapatam district guide.

85 Yule and Burnell, Hobson-Jobson.

85 Yule and Burnell, Hobson-Jobson.

86 Monograph, Eth. Survey of Cochin, No. 4, 1905.

86 Monograph, Eth. Survey of Cochin, No. 4, 1905.

87 Unhusked rice.

Brown rice.

88 Manual of the South Canara district.

88 Manual of the South Canara district.

89 Money-lender.

89 Loan shark.

90 Malabar Quarterly Review, 1905.

90 Malabar Quarterly Review, 1905.

91 Indian Review, III, 1902.

91 Indian Review, Vol. III, 1902.

92 Monograph, Ethnog. Survey, Cochin.

92 Monograph, Ethnographic Survey, Cochin.

93 According to another version of the legend, it was the hut of a Tiyan.

93 In another version of the legend, it was the hut of a Tiyan.

94 Malabar Manual.

94 Malabar Manual.

95 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

Gazetteer of Malabar district.

96 C. Karunakara Menon. Madras Mus. Bull., V, 2, 1906.

96 C. Karunakara Menon. Madras Mus. Bull., Vol. 5, No. 2, 1906.

97 Madras Mus. Bull., II, 3, 1901.

97 Madras Mus. Bull., II, 3, 1901.

98 This account is mainly from an article by Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

98 This account is primarily based on an article by Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

99 Ind. Ant., IX, 1880.

99 Ind. Ant., IX, 1880.

100 Manual of the North Arcot district.

100 Manual of the North Arcot district.

101 Madras Census Report, 1901.

101 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

102 Historical Sketches, Mysore.

102 History of Mysore.

103 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

103 Madura district gazetteer.

104 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

104 Madura District Gazetteer.

105 Madras Census Report, 1891.

105 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

106 Dynasties of the Kanarese Districts of the Bombay Presidency.

106 Dynasties of the Kanarese Districts of the Bombay Presidency.

107 Loc. cit., and Manual of the North Arcot district.

107 Same source., and Manual of the North Arcot district.

108 Section III, Inhabitants, Madras Government Press, 1907.

108 Section III, Residents, Madras Government Press, 1907.

109 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

109 Ind. Ant., Vol. VIII, 1879.

110 J. F. Kearns. Kalyāna shatanku.

110 J. F. Kearns. Kalyāna shatanku.

111 Madras Series, IV, 1882; VI, 1883.

111 Madras Series, IV, 1882; VI, 1883.

112 Illatakaru, a bride’s father having no son, and adopting his son-in-law.

112 Illatakaru, a bride's father with no sons, adopted his son-in-law.

113 See further C. Ramachendrier. Collection of Decisions of High Courts and the Privy Council applicable to dancing-girls, illatom affiliation, etc., Madras, 1892.

113 See further C. Ramachendrier. Collection of Decisions of High Courts and the Privy Council related to dancing girls, illatom affiliation, etc., Madras, 1892.

114 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

114 Anantapur district gazetteer.

115 Madras Mail, Nov. 1905.

115 Madras Mail, Nov. 1905.

116 Madras Mail, 1905.

116 Madras Mail, 1905.

117 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

117 Malabar district gazetteer.

118 Manual of the North Arcot district.

118 Manual of the North Arcot district.

119 Gazetteer of the Malabar district.

119 Malabar district guide.

120 Tamil and English Dictionary, 1862.

120 Tamil and English Dictionary, 1862.

121 The word, in this sense, is said to occur in a Tamil work named Pingala Nikandu. Karuku is Tamil for the serrated margin of the leaf—petiole of the palmyra palm.

121 The word, in this context, is found in a Tamil text called Pingala Nikandu. Karuku is the Tamil term for the jagged edge of the leaf stem of the palmyra palm.

122 Yule and Burnell. Hobson-Jobson.

122 Yule and Burnell. Hobson-Jobson.

123 Madras Census Report, 1901.

123 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

124 Manual of the Salem district.

124 Salem District Guide.

125 Madras Census Report, 1901.

125 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

126 Manual of the Madura district.

126 Madura District Manual.

127 Manual of the Tanjore district.

127 Tanjore District Manual.

128 Madras Census Report, 1891.

128 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

129 Madras Christ. Coll. Mag., 1894.

129 Madras Christian College Magazine, 1894.

130 Malabar Law and Custom.

130 Malabar Law and Customs.

131 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

131 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

132 Mysore and Coorg Gazetteer.

132 Mysore and Coorg Guide.

133 Madras Census Report, 1901.

133 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

134 Journ. Anthrop. Inst., II, 1873.

134 Journ. Anthrop. Inst., II, 1873.

135 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

135 Anantapur District Gazetteer.

136 Indian Review, VII, 1906.

136 Indian Review, VII, 1906.

137 See Ravi Varma, the Indian Artist. Indian Press, Allahabad.

137 Check out Ravi Varma, the Indian Artist. Indian Press, Allahabad.

138 Madras Census Report, 1891.

138 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

139 Madras Museum Bull., V. 3, 1907.

139 Madras Museum Bull., Vol. 3, 1907.

140 Epigraphia Indica, VI, 1900–1901.

140 Epigraphia Indica, Vol. VI, 1900–1901.

141 Rev. J. Cain, Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

141 Rev. J. Cain, Indiana Antiquities, Volume VIII, 1879.

142 Trans. Ethnolog. Soc., London, 1869; Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

142 Trans. Ethnolog. Soc., London, 1869; Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

143 Original Inhabitants of Bhārathavarsha.

143 Original Inhabitants of India.

144 The panas have reference to the division of South Indian castes into the right- and left-hand factions.

144 The panas refer to the division of South Indian castes into the right-hand and left-hand groups.

145 The mofussil indicates up-country stations and districts, as contra-distinguished from the “Presidency” (Madras City).

145 The mofussil refers to rural areas and regions away from the main city, specifically distinguishing them from the “Presidency” (Madras City).

146 Marriage Customs in Many Lands, 1897.

146 Marriage Customs in Many Lands, 1897.

147 Moore. Indian Appeal Cases, Vol. III, 359–82.

147 Moore. Indian Appeal Cases, Vol. III, 359–82.

148 Journey through Mysore, Canara and Malabar.

148 Discover Mysore, Canara, and Malabar.

149 See Talboys Wheeler, Madras in the Olden Time, II, 49–89.

149 See Talboys Wheeler, Madras in the Olden Time, II, 49–89.

150 See Tales of Kōmati Wit and Wisdom. C. Hayavadana Rao, Madras, 1907.

150 See Tales of Kōmati Wit and Wisdom. C. Hayavadana Rao, Madras, 1907.

151 Classified Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897. See also C. Hayavadana Rao, op. cit., and Ind. Ant., XX, 78, 1891.

151 Classified Collection of Tamil Proverbs, 1897. See also C. Hayavadana Rao, op. cit., and Ind. Ant., XX, 78, 1891.

152 Madras Census Report, 1871.

152 Chennai Census Report, 1871.

153 Gazetteer of the Godāvari district.

153 Godāvari district guide.

154 Linguistic Survey of India, IV, 1906.

154 Linguistic Survey of India, IV, 1906.

155 Man. March 1902.

155 Guy. March 1902.

156 G.O., No. 1020, Public, 8th October 1901.

156 G.O., No. 1020, Public, 8th October 1901.

157 G.O., No. 3005, Revenue, 3rd November 1908.

157 G.O., No. 3005, Revenue, November 3, 1908.

158 Occasional Essays on Native South Indian Life, 1901.

158 Occasional Essays on Native South Indian Life, 1901.

159 Madras Census Report, 1881.

159 Chennai Census Report, 1881.

160 Agricul: Ledger Series, Calcutta. No. 7, 1904.

160 Agricul: Ledger Series, Kolkata. No. 7, 1904.

161 Madras Mail, 1894.

161 Madras Mail, 1894.

162 Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district.

162 Vizagapatam district guide.

163 A very interesting note on Totemism among the Khonds by Mr. J. E. Friend-Pereira has been published in the Journal of Asiatic Society of Bengal, LXXIII, 1905.

163 An intriguing note on Totemism among the Khonds by Mr. J. E. Friend-Pereira was published in the Journal of Asiatic Society of Bengal, LXXIII, 1905.

164 The Golden Bough, 1900.

164 The Golden Bough, 1900.

165 Selections from the Records, Government of India, No. V, Human Sacrifice and Infanticide, 1854.

165 Excerpts from the Records, Government of India, No. V, Human Sacrifice and Infanticide, 1854.

166 Personal Narrative of Service among the Wild Tribes of Khondistan.

166 Personal Narrative of Service among the Wild Tribes of Khondistan.

167 Manual of the Vizagapatam district.

167 Vizagapatam District Manual

168 Journ. Asiat. Soc., Bengal, 1898.

168 Journ. Asian Soc., Bengal, 1898.

169 Madras Mail, 1894.

169 Madras Mail, 1894.

170 Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Home Department), V., 1845.

170 Selections from the Records of the Government of India (Home Department), V., 1845.

171 J. A. R. Stevenson. Madras Journ: Lit. Science, VI, 1837.

171 J. A. R. Stevenson. Madras Journ: Lit. Science, VI, 1837.

172 J. E. Friend-Pereira. Journ: Asiat: Soc. Bengal, LXXI, 1902.

172 J. E. Friend-Pereira. Journal: Asiatic Society of Bengal, Vol. 71, 1902.

173 Madras Journ: Lit. & Science, VI, 1837.

173 Madras Journ: Lit. & Science, VI, 1837.

174 Loc. cit.

174 Same source.

175 Journ. Anthrop. Soc., Bombay, II, 249.

175 Journ. Anthrop. Soc., Bombay, II, 249.

176 Madras Mail, 1896.

176 Madras Mail, 1896.

177 Macpherson. Memorials of Service in India.

177 Macpherson. Memories of Service in India.

178 Journ., Anth. Soc., Bombay, II, 1890.

178 Journ., Anth. Soc., Bombay, II, 1890.

179 Ibid.

179 Same source.

180 Madras Police Report, 1904.

180 Chennai Police Report, 1904.

181 Madras Mail, 1894.

181 Madras Mail, 1894.

182 Madras Mail, 1908.

182 Madras Mail, 1908.

183 See G.O., Judicial, 14th August 1882, No. 952, Khond Rising.

183 See G.O., Judicial, August 14, 1882, No. 952, Khond Rising.

184 Manual of the South Canara district.

184 Manual of the South Canara district.

185 Letters from Malabar. Translation. Madras, 1862.

185 Letters from Malabar. Translation. Chennai, 1862.

186 Fine cakes made of gram flour and a fine species of alkali, which gives them an agreeable taste, and serves the purpose of making them rise and become very crisp when fried.

186 Delicious cakes made from gram flour and a special type of alkali, which gives them a pleasant flavor and helps them rise and become very crispy when fried.

187 Journ. Anthrop. Inst., IV., 1875.

187 Journ. Anthro. Inst., vol. IV, 1875.

188 Madras Christ. Coll. Mag. III, 1885–6.

188 Madras Christ. Coll. Mag. III, 1885–6.

189 Ind. Ant. X, 1881.

189 Ind. Ant. X, 1881.

190 Manual of the South Canara district.

190 Manual of the South Canara district.

191 Journ. Anthrop. Inst. IV, 1875.

191 Journ. Anthrop. Inst. IV, 1875.

192 Manual of the South Canara district.

192 Manual of the South Canara district.

193 Manual of the South Canara district.

193 Manual of the South Canara district.

194 M. Paupa Rao Naidu. History of Railway Thieves.

194 M. Paupa Rao Naidu. History of Train Robbers.

195 Madras Census Report, 1891.

195 Chennai Census Report, 1891.

196 Madras Journ. Lit: and Science, 1888–89.

196 Madras Journ. Lit: and Science, 1888–89.

197 Tirumurukairuppadai.

197 Tirumurukairuppadai.

198 Madras Census Report, 1901.

198 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

199 Indian Antiquity, IX, 1880.

199 Indian History, IX, 1880.

200 Cyclopædia of India.

200 Encyclopedia of India.

201 Loc. cit.

201 Same source

202 Note on Koravas, 1908.

202 Note on Koravas, 1908.

203 Notes on Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.

203 Notes on Criminal Groups of the Madras Presidency.

204 Forest Inspection Report, 1896.

204 Forest Inspection Report, 1896.

205 Gazetteer of the Bellary district.

205 Bellary district gazetteer.

206 Gazetteer of the Vizagapatam district.

206 Vizagapatam district gazetteer.

207 F. S. Mullaly. Op. cit.

207 F. S. Mullaly. Op. cit.

208 Madras Journ. Lit. Science, XVII, 1853.

208 Madras Journ. Lit. Science, XVII, 1853.

209 History of Railway Thieves. Madras, 1904.

209 History of Railway Thieves. Chennai, 1904.

210 Madras Census Report, 1901.

210 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

211 Gazetteer of the Trichinopoly district.

211 Trichinopoly District Gazetteer.

212 This story is based on well-known episode of Nalacharitra in the Āranya Parva of the Mahabharatha.

212 This story is based on a well-known episode of Nalacharitra in the Aranya Parva of the Mahabharata.

213 M. Paupa Rao Naidu. Op. cit.

213 M. Paupa Rao Naidu. Op. cit.

214 Ibid.

214 Same source.

215 Police Report, 1902.

215 Police Report, 1902.

216 Op. cit.

216 Same source.

217 A varāha or pagoda was worth Rs. 3–8–0.

217 A varāha or pagoda was worth Rs. 3-8-0.

218 A seer is an Indian measure of weight, varying in different parts of the country.

218 A seer is a unit of weight used in India, with variations in different regions of the country.

219 Trans. Eth. Sec. N.S., VII.

219 Trans. Eth. Sec. N.S., VII.

220 J. F. Kearns, Kalyāna Shatanku, 1868.

220 J. F. Kearns, Kalyāna Shatanku, 1868.

221 Ind. Ant., III., 1874.

221 Ind. Ant., III., 1874.

222 Madras Census Report, 1871.

222 Chennai Census Report, 1871.

223 Madras Census Report, 1901.

223 Chennai Census Report, 1901.

224 India. Trübner. Oriental Series.

224 India. Trübner. Asia Series.

225 Ind. Ant., III, 1874.

225 Ind. Ant. III, 1874.

226 Madras Mail, 1907.

226 Chennai Mail, 1907.

227 For this account of the Koravas, I am largely indebted to a report by Mr. N. E. Q. Mainwaring, Superintendent of Police.

227 For this account of the Koravas, I owe a lot to a report by Mr. N. E. Q. Mainwaring, the Police Superintendent.

228 Madras Mail, 1908.

228 Chennai Mail, 1908.

Colophon

Availability

Volume Contents First Article
I Abhishēka
II Canji
III Kabbēra
VI Kōri
V Marakkāyar
VI Palli
VII Tābēlu

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Scans of this book can be found on the Internet Archive (copy 1, 2).

Related Library of Congress catalog page: 10014128.

Related Library of Congress catalog page: 10014128.

Related Open Library catalog page (for source): OL7024564M.

Related Open Library catalog page (for source): OL7024564M.

Related Open Library catalog page (for work): OL1106958W.

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Related WorldCat catalog page: 1967849.

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Page Source Correction
9 [Not in source] ;
96 Gāmpa Gampa
102 annointing anointing
103 Gangimakkulu Gangimakkalu
155 negociations negotiations
160 orginally originally
161 feed fed
181 [Deleted]
226 [Not in source]
300 Kolāyans Kōlayans
316 negociate negotiate
317 Bhāskarācharya Bhāskarāchārya
394 tumeric turmeric
495 ’? ?’

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